There's Still Hope
by alittlesummerwine
Summary: Set during the episode Hereafter. The loss of one man can change the entire group and the relationships within it. Without Superman, what happens to the Justice League and to BMWW?
1. Superman's Dead

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

_Title: There's Still Hope_

_As always, perspective changes with –VvV- Holds true for all chapters._

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. This story will start amidst the action with the Squad in downtown Metropolis, bent on gaining Superman's attention by trashing the city._

_Thanks, as always, to my wonderful beta, Lavendar Gaia!_

Chapter 1, Superman's Dead, by Our Lady Peace

_Diana's perspective- (I'm going to spend a lot of time in Bruce's brain later)_

I came upon a scene of devastation and ruin when I arrived in Metropolis. Soaring through the sky, I was able to take in the entire scene, perched in the winds above the city. The Revenge Squad had created a landscape of destruction and chaos – cars piled in a fiery heap, the villains encircled by a cluster of police vehicles, sirens wailing and lights blazing as they attempted to stem the damage and prevent the Squad's escape. Helicopters littered the sky with whirring blades, and armed figures of all types were scattered through the streets of the city, all of which merely provided fodder for the villains, target practice while they continued their barrage on Metropolis.

From behind the burning stack of ruined cars rose Toyman, armed in what appeared to be a giant robot of red and blue, its brightness standing out amongst the pillars of black smoke that climbed toward the skies.

A swirl of white on the ground caught my eye and I headed towards it to discover Flash trapped under a car as the winds controlled by the Weather Wizard raged around us, a patch of ice suggesting that Flash had slipped on the machinations of the meteorological villain. Flash didn't appear to be crushed, simply unable to move the enormous weight perched above him, teetering on a light pole that had surely saved his life.

Balancing myself in the air, I braced the car on my shoulders and lifted it onto my back and hefting its weight above my head.

"Windy," Flash commented with a sheepish look on his face, still flat on his back under the light pole.

The wind raged around us, whipping my hair about my face as I answered him, "I gathered." I flung the car to the side, careful to avoid it being tossed back in my face from a gust created by the Weather Wizard. Suddenly, lightning lanced the skies, crackling and hissing as it dove back towards me, the skies filling with blackness and menace. Bracing my arms together at the wrists, I raised them and fought to hold off the lightning with my bracelets, groaning with the force that I was exerting to keep the strike from entering my body, to ignore the lightning arcing around me in deadly spits.

As it finally let up, I turned back to help Flash escape his prison of debris and heard him say, "There are so many reasons why that shouldn't work." Ignoring his comment, I began to lift the pole from atop his body, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Weather Wizard preparing for another strike and I whipped out my arm, catching the lightning strike with my bracelet and reflecting it back at its bearer. It hit Weather Wizard squarely in the chest, knocking him backwards and dislodging the wand from his grasp. Satisfied that my work had been completed with this foe, that I had foiled his plot for the moment, I again picked up the electrical pole and removed it from atop Flash.

Tossing the pole to the side, I outlined the plan to the scarlet speedster.

"Our next priority is to get rid of Metallo."

"I got an idea," Flash declared, leaping to his feet and racing to my side to take hold of one end of my lasso. I stared at him in surprise, but before I could even speak, he handed me the side that he was not grasping and said, "Hang on."

I stood there, watching him race off in a scarlet blur towards Metallo's present location. Suddenly realizing what he had planned, I took to the air, going in the opposite direction of Flash so that we could literally send Metallo flying, almost like a slingshot. The plan went perfectly, the metal man caught in the stomach by the lasso and it propelled him through the air, out of our sight and currently out of our hands.

Dropping my end of the lasso, I fended off lightning bolts from Weather Wizard and made my way towards Kalibak, the monstrous son of Darkseid, but his brute strength immediately came to the forefront. He knocked me down brutally with his metal weapon, my bracelets unable to sustain the force of the attack and he pounced on me, driving his fists into my sides and face, pummeling me mercilessly before finally dispensing with me with one driving blow. I felt my body rip through several layers of concrete and building materials and I collapsed, unable to move amongst the debris and dust and too exhausted to attempt the effort, finally blacking out from the pain.

I awoke, presumably a few minutes later, still powerless to summon the strength to rise to my feet, even to move the pieces of collapsed building that rested on my legs. I weakly opened my eyes when I heard a groaning mechanical noise, vaguely noticing that Toyman's robot had changed the front of its exterior to what looked like a rocket launcher or some sort of energy beam dispenser. Closing my eyes again, I tried to find the concentration to clear my brain, to sweep away the cobwebs that littered my thoughts and help my teammates deal with this situation.

But, my mind cloudy and still fog-ridden, I could do little more than lie there, listening to the sounds of screams of terror and the blasts of noise generated by Toyman's machine. Cracking open my eyes, I watched as green blasts of energy were fired into the air by Toyman, each completely obliterating whatever it struck, leaving gaping holes in the ground and causing widespread panic and chaos. I could see my teammates moving frantically across the skies and ground in order to protect the citizens, to rescue them from certain danger and place them in secure locations, away from the glowing discharges from Toyman's robot and weapon.

I raised my head wearily as Bruce entered my vision, trying anxiously to free me from my confinement and debris. I could him he whispering to me, hoping to revive my strength with his words, and blinking blearily, I focused on the desperation written on his face, the worry that lined his expression and the fog began to clear. I tried with what little strength I could muster to free myself, to help Bruce in his efforts. Breaking clear of the debris, I could hear the energy buzzing behind me as Toyman prepared to launch another blast, but I was unable to see its location, unable to see that it was pointed directly at Bruce and me in a ploy to lure Superman into sacrificing himself for his teammates, for his friends.

I heard his voice screaming, "No!" and just as Bruce was helping me to my feet, we looked up to see, to witness in horror the skeleton of Superman, the ashy remnants emboldened against the glowing green of the beam, and then, nothing. He had disappeared, screaming in agony in the name of protecting us, given his body and soul in order to ensure that Bruce and I were still safe, still able to carry on. I couldn't even comprehend his sacrifice, only knew that my fuzzy brain was realizing that my friend was gone, that I had been used in order to…to kill Superman.

Bruce turned to look at me, stunned disbelief and grief lining our faces as the shock began to disappear. As the smoke began to clear, a smoldering remnant of red cape floated gently to the ground, and Batman stood, searching the skies as if by sight alone he could bring Superman back, could return the fallen hero to our ranks.

The silence grew as everyone stared in horror at the last location of Superman, as if we could still see his outline disappearing from the sky. Mouths hung open in shock, cries fell to the ground in sorrow as we realized that this time, he wasn't coming back. He wasn't going to rush in and save the day in the nick of time; he wasn't going to reappear with a boyish smile and the 'S' standing proudly on his chest; he was gone. And we were now six.

The smoke continued to billow, the cameras continued to roll as the world witnessed in abject horror the death of Superman, the beloved hero of Metropolis. We continued, thoughts flying and anger seeping, to believe. And with each moment, that disbelief that he could truly be gone began to wane and the sorrow and grief began to roll in waves of emotion through the entire city, through the entire world, and through the Justice League.

I rose unsteadily to my feet, launching myself into the air as a mist of rage and anguish began to pour through my shaky system, intent on dispatching justice in the only way I could think of at the moment: destroying Toyman, the villain who had killed my friend.

It seemed so recently that we had all been laughing and joking together, singing along with the karaoke machine and enjoying each other's company, intent on becoming friends and comrades once again. And that day such a short time again, that bond had been cemented, thanks to Flash and his efforts and endeavors to celebrate our friendship and each other.

Yet, here we were, having so recently rejoiced in our time together, losing one of our members. A loss that seemed at each moment to become more permanent, more real in the shock and grief that embraced all of us.

I tore through the front of the robot, destroying the energy dispenser, toppling it before standing before Toyman, judge, jury and executioner.

He aimed a water pistol at me, shouting, "Stay back! It's full of acid!"

I carelessly flicked the gun to the side, plucking Toyman from the ground and holding him aloft, sweater vest wrapped in my fist as I stared at him, vehemence in my expression and tears wetting my cheeks. I drew back my fist, and looked him dead in the eye as lightning punctured the sky and rain pierced the streets as if the gods themselves were angered by the death of Superman.

"Do I look like I'm playing games?"

"What are you going to do to me?" he stammered, and I could see the fear in his eyes as a bolt of lightning lit the sky.

"I'm going to punch a hole in your head," I stated calmly, pulling my fist back further as tears fell from the heavens and from my eyes.

And as I began to move my arm forward, I felt it stopped by a gloved hand wrapped around my arm.

"We don't do that to our enemies," Flash told me.

"Speak for yourself," I asserted, anger lacing my tone and grief fogging my brain.

"I'm trying to speak for Superman," he answered quietly and the sorrow in his voice finally pierced the cloud of misery, made me realize that this was not the answer, not the way to find justice, not the way that Superman would have chosen to avenge his death. I lowered my fists and my eyes, trying desperately to stem the tears as I finally understood that Superman was dead. And, tossing Toyman to the ground, I hugged my body with my arms, searching for some warmth left inside me on this cold day, for some relief amidst this misery. But none came and I knew that today, I wasn't going to be able to find the warmth in my soul.

We were only six.

_Next chapter: Broken/Run To Me – Dealing with the guilt of being the pawn in Toy Man's game to destroy Superman…_

_10 points to my first reviewer! HEHE. Would you prefer my undying gratitude?_


	2. Broken & Run to Me

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

_As always, perspective changes with –VvV- Holds true for all chapters._

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. The first chapter dealt with the disappearance of Superman, now presumed dead thanks to Toy Man and the others. How will Bruce and Diana deal with the loss of their teammate and the part they played in it?_

_Ten points and my undying gratitude to SiriusLover4eva for being my first reviewer! Hmmm, maybe I should make up a system where everyone who reviews gets 5 points for every review and those of you with so many points get an extra chapter! (Maybe even a one-shot of your choosing) Hmmm, what do you think of that idea?_

**Chapter 2, Broken by Seether and Amy Lee, & Run to Me by Cowboy Mouth**

"Cuz I'm broken when I'm lonesome and I don't feel right when you're gone away"

"So, take a chance and run to me, run to me, run to me, find it deep inside of yourself and run to me, we'll see everything there is to see…"

If you've never heard Cowboy Mouth, you should. Has anyone else besides me?

**_Diana's perspective- (I'm going to spend a lot of time in Bruce's brain later)_**

I stood in the rain, water mingling with the salty trickle of my tears, the sticky sensations of guilt and grief choking my throat, causing my stomach to roll and toss precariously on the stormy seas of my emotions. After the immediate shock had faded away, we each remembered our place in the Justice League and the League's reason for being in Metropolis today in the first place. Rounding up the remaining members of the Revenge Squad besides Toyman, we had swiftly handed them over to the Metropolis police department, secure in the knowledge that the criminals would be handed swift retribution for their actions today, that someone would keep a strong eye on these criminals who had stolen Superman from the world. At least, for today, they would be in lockdown awaiting a sentence, but I had a feeling that tomorrow that situation would change, that once again these criminals would find themselves out on the streets wreaking havoc and chaos.

Bruce stood in exactly the same spot he had watched Superman disappeared from, clutching the ragged piece of cape and letting the rain beat down on his face, eyes closed tightly in a mixture of thought and grief. His cape billowed in the wind and a more solitary and lonely figure I'd never seen. He and Superman had been closer than Bruce ever would have admitted – the perfect foil of light and darkness, each admiring the strengths of the other. Indeed, he was probably the best friend that Bruce had and the two of them had worked together long before the creation of the Justice League, back when it was just a few heroes trying desperately to save their cities.

And now Superman was gone.

The entire Justice League still appeared to be in various states of shock and sorrow, unable to return to the Watchtower knowing that our ranks had been decreased, that we were no longer the seven, but now just six.

I watched Bruce stalk through the rain, his emotions in every line of his body and I couldn't hold myself back, couldn't simply watch him walk away from me and bury himself in his work and in Gotham, in proving that he needed no one, that he lacked all emotions. The man positively raged with emotions, overflowing from his depths, no matter that he sought to disprove that claim with every action.

Eyeing the rest of the team, I realized that no one would notice if I too escaped the scene, if I went to Bruce and we grieved together, away from the prying eyes of the world and our teammates.

Deliberately, I flew off in the direction that I had last seen Bruce, intent on finding him and being together at this time, our time of need.

Spying a dark shadow moving stealthily up ahead, I raced through the air to catch up, to capture my somewhat elusive prey before he made good on his escape. Landing beside him, I matched his pace as we strode through the rain, presumably to find the Bat-jet and return to Wayne Manor and the Bat-cave. The silence between us was palpable and somewhat comforting, as if we didn't need words to understand each other at the moment. The only sound that punctured our closeness was the droplets of rain lashing against the ground and our bodies, the gods still weeping at the loss of Superman.

As he entered the jet, he turned around to look at me, a hard yet questioning expression on his face as if he were debating allowing me to join his flight.

"I'm coming with you," I told him firmly in a tone that booked no argument. And to my surprise, I didn't get one. He simply turned, striding into the jet as if he realized that he wasn't quite ready to be alone just yet, to face his fears and his guilt, the hard reality that had crashed into our world today.

I followed him into the jet, taking a seat in the co-pilot's chair, closing my eyes and wiping the dampness from my face, wringing my hair gently to dislodge some of the water before allowing myself to relax a little, to let the tension fade from my shoulders. I dozed for a few minutes, the peace and comfort of the moment stroking my wounded soul and allowing me the luxury of sleep, the rest of the weary.

Waking slowly, I could feel Bruce's eyes resting on me, the heat of his gaze warming me as I returned to consciousness, to full awareness of my surroundings. But when I turned to meet his gaze, he jerked his head back to the forefront, staring moodily out the window at the vista spread out in front of us.

"He's gone," he whispered, grief etched in the lines of his face and I looked at him in surprise, shocked that he had chosen to honor me by sharing his emotions, sharing his concerns.

"You surprise me, Bruce," I told him, watching as he rubbed the torn shard of red cape between his gloved fingers, an unconscious movement that spoke of his anguish more than anything else he had done. "You're the one with all the answers, the one of us who considers all of the possibilities before leaping to any unverified conclusions."

"We watched him die, Diana."

The memory brought fresh tears to my eyes, but I pushed them aside, knowing that Bruce needed logic right now, a reasonable way to process his grief. He was never one to accept anything at face value and I was shocked that he was simply presuming Superman to be dead. Of any of us, I expected Bruce to be the one to try to find answers, try to understand exactly what had happened in the deathly silence of Metropolis today.

"Do you truly believe that, Bruce?" I certainly did. I could not fathom how Superman could have survived such an attack, but Bruce was not about simple acceptance – he was about answers and dogged persistence.

He remained silent, refusing to meet my eyes, but I could almost hear the wildfire of speculation that now ran rampant through his brain as we continued our journey through the sky.

Reaching the Bat-cave, we disembarked from the jet, the silence punctured only by the squeak and squeal of the bats residing in the cave. We stood at arm's length, staring for a moment before he held out his arms and I eagerly stepped forward into them, comforted by his embrace and reveling in the warmth generated between us. For a few minutes, we did little more than stand there, until I murmured softly, a catch in my voice, "I feel so guilty."

He wrapped his arms more tightly around me, as if he could stave off my pain with the tightness of his hold. I continued to speak, lost in thoughts and letting the grief pour out.

"He was trying to save us, to protect us, you and I. I keep seeing him there, hanging in mid-air, body in agonizing pain as he sacrificed himself for us. I can't get the picture out of my head, I can't stop myself from seeing it, from wishing that it had been me."

At my last word, he whispered harshly, "Stop."

I pulled back slightly, looking into his face, fresh droplets of tears rolling down my cheeks as I revisited the past, the moments earlier today when I realized that our friend had died for us.

"I can't stop. I just want to turn the clock back, to return things to the way they were. Instead, because of their petty need for revenge, he's gone!" My voice rose as I fought to reign in my anger. I gulped back the tears, struggling valiantly to stem the salty drops as my anger faded and overwhelming guilt took its place.

"Thank Hera that it wasn't you," I whispered in agonizing guilt and overpowering love, pushing back his cowl and cupping his jaw in my hands, revived by the feel of the stubble that scratched my palms and the warmth of his skin pressed against mine. "I would have taken Toyman and…"

I could feel myself tensing in anger as I thought about what my reaction would have been if it had been Bruce and not Superman, my lover instead of my friend. But Bruce stopped my words with a hard kiss, as if bruising and punishing my lips for daring to think the words I had been prepared to utter.

"It doesn't matter now," he stated, ruthlessly biting off each word. "It's over. We move on."

For a few moments, silence again reigned and then he pulled out of our embrace, striding a few steps away before turning back to me, concern and harsh reality dominating his expression.

"I will be patrolling the streets of Gotham tonight," he told me flatly. "It's more important today than ever, to show that even without…," he paused, obviously trying to force the words through the lump of emotion in his throat. His voice came out raspy and hoarse, the impact flaying my shattered nerves, "…even without Superman, we're still going to be active and vigilant."

I knew that he was right, that we needed to be an operating force today more than ever, to prove that our presence was still more than enough without the Man of Steel to combat the criminal elements of this world and those seeking to overthrow it.

But today, I wanted to wallow in my grief, just a little, to just be Diana and Bruce instead of Wonder Woman and Batman, heroes and crime-fighters. I wanted to be held and soothed, to remember our friend and to honor his existence. But that day would come soon enough and today was about proving our strength, our commitment to Earth and its denizens.

"You're right," I told him, fighting down my anger and tears that we had to spend this night in such a manner. "It's the right move to make in this situation. I just wish…"

I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, to utter my wish and make it known that I had wanted something different from this night – to grieve together in solidarity rather than working separately to alleviate the fears of the people that without Superman, the world would run rampant with crime. Bruce was nothing if not devoted to his city and I knew that he also needed this time to think, to sort through his memories and feelings and deal with the situation in his own way. And Hera help the criminals who would be unintelligent enough to take on the Batman this evening, after watching his best friend disintegrate into a glowing green light, protecting us by sacrificing himself.

"I know, Princess," he said, his voice much softer now, grasping my hand and giving it a quick squeeze before leaping into the Batmobile. Firing up the engine, he shot me an inquiring look, indecision clearly written on his face. "Wait tonight?"

And I immediately moved to soothe his feelings, to assure that him that tonight he wouldn't be alone and neither would I. "I'll be waiting," I murmured, my face softening as I answered his request, watching as the taillights faded, leaving me in the darkness.

_Next chapter: All I Wanna Do (Is Make Love to You) – Bruce and Diana finally act on their feelings…and the rating for the story will change as well...Can't say I didn't warn you..._

_Anybody want some points? __Hmmm, 12 chapters, 5 points a review...my writing at your disposal at say...40 points? HEHE. It's up to you! Seriously, I appreciate your reviews so much, all the comments and help, my writing is at your disposal!_


	3. All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. The first chapter dealt with the disappearance of Superman, now presumed dead thanks to Toy Man and the others. How will Bruce and Diana deal with the loss of their teammate and the part they played in it?_

**Chapter 3, All I Wanna to Do (Is Make Love to You), by Heart**

"All I wanna do is make love to you, say you will, you want me too

All I wanna do is make love to you, I've got lovin' arms to hold on to"

I repeat. Great band.

It's come to my attention that I only seem to write the sexy stuff from Diana's perspective. So I'm changing it up a little bit.

_Bruce's perspective- (Finally, right?)_

The night had been relatively quiet, the last thing that I had expected after today's events. But the shock still clung to the air, the loss of Superman on everyone's minds tonight, leaving peace to reign in the city of Gotham.

My mind had been able to process the scene I had witnessed earlier, to replay the "death" of Superman to the point where I was willing to concede Diana's point. Perhaps there was something more that I had yet to explore, yet to understand about the scene. But I wasn't one to accept the given conclusions; I fought to discover the truth, to seek out the kernels of fact amongst the lies.

Diana knew him only as Superman, but I knew him as Clark, as the mild-mannered reporter who worked for the Daily Planet. I knew him as the son of Ma and Pa Kent, the farm boy from Kansas who wanted to make a difference in the world. The man who had arrived as an alien had become a national symbol, representing truth, justice, and the American way. He was revered, almost a god among men, and yet, few knew him simply as Clark, as I did.

I had never trusted him completely, knowing that a rogue Superman certainly had the capability of destroying Earth, but nonetheless, I admired and respected the man, his boy scout tendencies aside. We approached crime fighting from opposite sides of the spectrum, the darkness and light that had merged to form a friendship of sorts, a mutual camaraderie of respect and, albeit grudgingly on my part, admiration.

We had long ago realized that the world needed both Superman and Batman to balance the scales, to combat crime with strength and with intelligence. Had the balance tipped irrevocably today?

But as I entered the Bat-cave, surprisingly alert for the late hour, I left all thoughts of Superman's disappearance behind, ready to focus instead on Diana. She had stayed with me today, giving and receiving comfort and together, we had ridden the waves of emotions that had poured through us – guilt, grief, and an unbearable sense of loss.

Had she not stayed by my side, I would have retreated further in the shell of Batman, eschewing all human contact in search of narrow-minded pursuit of justice and retribution. Instead, I was realizing that perhaps I was to find turn my mind to the truth behind the disappearance of Superman – what properties did the green energy that Toyman had used possess and had Superman simply vanished in front of our eyes? I was to search for truth, not for hope, and to make rational, logical conclusions after I compiled all the evidence.

She had brought me out of my depression, allowed me to realize that I was approaching today with the wrong mindset, simply concluding that Superman was gone because I had seen it. I had observed many things before that had later been proven wrong. Why would this be any different than those?

Searching the area for her form, I noticed the slumped, sleeping figure of Wonder Woman, sans the red boots, curled up in the computer chair, head pillowed by her hands. I allowed myself a small smile, filled with tenderness for the woman in front of me, the woman who had seen me through today, providing me with inspiration and a rejuvenation of spirit.

Plus, there was just something about the woman without her dominatrix boots that sparked a smile in my mind and on my face, the toes curled and nails painted a bold red, the legs shapely and smooth. Her tiara was perched on the computer mainframe and her ebony hair flowed down over the back of the chair and shielded her face in soft waves. She looked a little lost, very feminine and utterly enchanting, the perfect sight for my tired eyes on this distressing day.

I walked slowly toward her, letting the beauty of her fill my soul, fill my body with that odd mixture of peace and lust that always stirred in Diana's presence. Dropping the cowl and cape on the floor, I stooped to pick up my sleeping princess, careful not to awaken her from her slumber. Hugging her body close to mine, I made my way up the stairs to Wayne Manor proper knowing that tonight, with Diana beside me in bed, the nightmares would be held at bay and the dreams a reality.

My footsteps echoed loudly in the hallway, a welcome companion as I carried my princess to the master bedroom, wanting to see the ebony hair spread out in abandon on my pillows, the long satiny length of her body splayed against the silk sheets, the contrast bringing my mind to sharp awareness and heightened lust. I began to harden just thinking about the prospect of a naked Diana in my bed, again gracing my bedroom with her presence.

And then the princess began to rouse, softly sighing as she came awake in my arms. Nearing the bedchamber, I pushed open the door with my foot, striding in and laying Diana on the bed before turning to close and lock the door.

"Bruce?" she murmured, opening her eyes to half-mast and giving me a sweet smile and to my lust fogged brain, a delightful invitation to ravish her utterly and completely.

Bracing my elbows on the bed, using my weight to press her into the bed, I kissed her in desperation, hoping to fill myself with her warmth, her light – the things that I'd been unable to feel since that piece of red cape had fluttered to the ground, a mocking reminder of what we'd lost today. I slid my tongue into her mouth, starting a gasp from her before she began to return the favor, engaging in a silken slide of tongues and savoring the honeyed sweetness of her mouth.

Pulling back slightly, I nipped at her lower lip before taking it into my mouth and sucking gently. When I ceased, inching back, her swollen pout was nearly the death of me, the desire in her eyes the ultimate fulfillment of a wish long kept hidden.

"Bruce," she whispered, caressing my face with her hands and burying her hands in my hair, combing aside strands as she pulled me back to her, kissing me with undisguised passion and growing arousal. We clung together, soaking in the taste and feel of each other, forgetting for precious moments that today had dealt us a grievous blow and focusing instead on the sweetness that sparked between us, the embers that soared into a raging inferno with each caress, each kiss, each look.

Halting the kiss, I looked deeply into her eyes, trying desperately to read her intentions in the cobalt depths. "Diana, are you sure about this?"

In answer, she pushed me off of her, moving to her feet and within seconds, she stood naked in front of me, costume carelessly discarded on the carpet and a sultry smile to her lips. The Diana that I loved that given me her answer in bold spades, tightening my body into a hard knot of steel as I left my gaze sweep her from head to toe.

The lustrous hair framed the heart-shaped face, the cobalt eyes lit with love and passion, and the mouth pouted as if begging to be kissed. Her nipples stood proudly erect, tipping her generous breasts and my mouth went dry at the sight, still unbelieving that this gorgeous creature was here with me tonight, preparing to share her body and her sweetness with me in the physical consummation of our love. My gaze continued lower, resting on the nest of dark curls at the apex of her body before noticing her hands were resting on her hips in the haughty stance that Diana often teased me with.

My face rising, our eyes met in the dim light of the room and her next words almost caused my heart to stop beating, to break into pieces at the gentle caress that laced her voice.

"I think you're wearing entirely too much clothing, Bruce. Shall we remedy that?" Suddenly the inexperienced Diana had become the aggressor and I was more than willing to oblige, eager even to join my body with Diana's, to felt the heated press of sweaty skin as we came together in reckless abandon.

I shucked off the remnants of my costume and stood, proudly nude and utterly engorged as Diana's stare ran the span of my body. Stepping forward in one smooth motion, she wrapped her hand around my length and my breath stopped in my throat at the brazen gesture.

"Nice," she whispered, before taking that last step, letting our bodies press together, the sweet slide of skin and the rough sweep of hair. I could feel the pointed tips of her breasts jutting against my chest and, placing my lips on her in a soft kiss, let my hand take the weight of her left breasts, the tip abrading my palm. Gently moving my thumb, I brushed the peak in a gentle back and forth motion, repeating the gesture as I swallowed her gasp of arousal.

She threw her head back, arching her back to ease the ache in her chest and I bent down, grasping the nipple in my mouth, sucking gently and then slowly increasing the pressure. She clasped my head in her hands, holding my mouth to her chest and I ran my hands softly up her spine until she shivered, sensations coursing through her body at my tender touch. Switching to the other breast, I amplified the pressure, enhancing the experience before releasing the tip, nipping it softly before continuing my loving ministrations.

I rose again, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that reeked of sensual abandon, of the passionate recklessness that was beginning to drive our spirits and our bodies, the scalding sensation stoking the fires of desire, of physical anticipation. Our mouths ravished each other, tongues sliding and probing in a conflagration of teased senses and heightened arousal.

We explored the other's bodies with fingertips and palms, sensations streaking and converging in the proud jut of my penis pressed against the silkiness of Diana's stomach.

Breaking off the kiss, I gasped for air, unprepared for the intense reaction caused by Diana's bold movements, her uninhibited actions of these past few minutes. Leaning forward, my tongue traced a damp path from her jaw line, through the valley of her breasts, causing her body to pulse and jerk as I wound my way down her stomach before laving her navel. She thrashed on the bed, trying desperately to seek some relief and inching back, I blew softly into the curls at the base of her body, the dark hairs ruffling at my motion.

Halting for a moment to eye the bounty spread before me, I reached over into the bedside drawer, grabbing a foil packed, ripping it open and sliding the condom onto my shaft.

Reigning in my demons, I slid my thumb up her damp folds, shuddering at the warmth and wetness that poured forth, a honeyed cavern opening to my magic touch. Gently, I leaned forward, settling my tongue on the taut nubbin of flesh that had emerged from its hood and a moan was my immediate reward, her gasping breaths testament to her enjoyment and to the peak she was climbing, heightened senses and heightened anticipation.

Flicking my tongue in repeated motions, I eased a finger into her tightly clinging slit, probing gently before allowing another finger to join the first, repeatedly thrusting in and out of her snug channel even as I ached to replace my fingers with my throbbing erection, to bury myself between her thighs as I watched her face in ecstasy.

Diana moaned deeper, the sudden change in tenor alerting me to her approaching climax and as she began to quiver, body shaking with convulsions and breath coming in short pants, I quickly moved forward, sliding into her, breaching the slim barrier with one quick thrust and propping myself on my elbows. Looking into her eyes, I could see little trace of pain amongst the desire and wonder, and closing my eyes, I pulled slowly out before thrusting again, sliding into her wet heat as she continued to shudder and quake. Within seconds, I succumbed to the lure of her body, sliding into completion and slumping to the side of the beauty I had just made love to, my arm wrapped around her waist and her face cradled between nape and shoulder. Bodies sated, minds free of guilt and grief, we clung together as sleep and the dawning day loomed.

"I love you, Diana," I murmured before sliding into sleep, her echoing words the last I heard before drifting into sweet, satisfied oblivion.

_Next chapter: Afterglow – Diana clues Bruce in to an upcoming visitor and Bruce explains his decision concerning Superman's Memorial Service…_

_Does Diana even have a navel? Oh, well! Was it hot, totally trashy, or over the top? I'm definitely curious – my first love scene. So REVIEW! Earn yourself some points! (I am keeping track!)_


	4. Afterglow

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. Things have changed significantly in Bruce and Diana's relationship overnight, in many ways. What happens as dawn breaks and the questions emerge…_

**Chapter 4, Afterglow, by INXS**

"Here I am, lost in the light of the moon that comes through my window, the walls of my memories divide the thorns from the roses… touch me and I will follow in your afterglow… Here I am, lost in the edges of time, but who wants tomorrow, in between, longing to hold you again, I'm caught in your shadow, I'm losing control…"

_Diana's perspective-_

I awoke to a stream of sunlight and the warmth of a male body pressed against my backside, an arm thrown around my waist, anchoring me to the bed and his body. Smiling smugly and softly, I snuggled in, enjoying the peace of the morning, the feeling that humanity consisted only of the two of us, alone and in love. Keeping my eyes closed, I savored the moment, the morning after my first time with Bruce, my initiation into the world of lovemaking.

I hadn't possessed many expectations of the event, but whatever they had been, Bruce had exceeded them, bringing me to a pleasure and ecstasy far beyond what I had expected or anticipated. I had, of course, expected the event to be satisfying, but the reality was far beyond that pale description – I had found a kind of paradise in his arms, something I had not realized was even obtainable with the purely physical. However, I also understood that last night had been about more than the physical – it had been about us finally coming together, sharing both our pleasure and our grief, our bodies straining toward bliss and our emotions leading the feeling of completion to its ultimate pinnacle.

Sighing in contentment, I could only manage to feel happiness this morning, not even the smallest niggle of guilt, over either the death of Superman or losing my virgin status by willingly joining with a man. I couldn't truly regret my actions as they had led to this sense of peace today, this level of comfort that I had not expected to find in Bruce's arms or in our lovemaking.

Perhaps I should have expected this though, this feeling of contentment that filled me this morning. The smallest of touches from Bruce had always brought about intense feelings even when I had been concentrating on other things and unable to focus on my own desires, like when I was carrying him through the air. We had always sparked something in one another and now, from the ashes of our union rose the phoenix of fulfillment, both physical and emotional.

As I lay quietly, I replayed the events of last night in my mind, revisiting the tenderness in Bruce's actions, the lust that had glazed his eyes, and the words he had whispered as he drifted to sleep wrapped up in me. A hand brushed through my hair, tangling and smoothing the ebony locks before tracing a gentle caress down the line of my body, lingering at the breast and hip then resting softly on my stomach.

"Good morning, Princess," he whispered next to my ear and I shuddered as his warm breath made contact with my sensitive skin. Sweeping my hair to the side, he planted a series of nibbling kisses along my nape and collarbone, bringing every nerve in my body to full awareness. Feeling him jut against my backside, I smiled deviously in anticipation before turning, launching myself on top of him, propping myself up on my hands and beaming a wide and mischievous grin down at his surprised but leering face.

"Good morning, Bruce," I said in a low tone, winking at him as I perched above his fit and honed body. "Sleep well?"

Oh, Hera, how I enjoyed teasing this man! It was so rare for someone to actually hold his own against me, and to find someone who practically worshipped my teasing actions and statements was a boon in itself. It was part of the reason that I had fallen in love with him –he was strong and confident enough to allow me to be a little mischievous, to be a little flirtatious without slobbering and falling into an idiotic puddle at my feet. Bruce choose to challenge me, to counter my actions with his own and I loved that he played the game, that he didn't just let me dominate him or win at my little game.

Taking advantage of the view presented to him, he began to tweak my breasts, bringing them to aching fullness before answering in a raspy voice, "I did enjoy waking up."

Shivering at his words and his continued ministrations, I began to enjoy waking up beside him this morning as well. The sexy stubble lining his jaw an utter temptation, I bent and ran my cheek along his, the raspy feeling sending sparks of excitement down my spine. Turning my head, our lips met in what began as a tender kiss, but quickly heated into a passionate mating of our mouths and tongues. I felt his hands sliding down my body, grasping my hips as he lifted me into the air before slipping into my wetness, the position lending itself to letting me truly feel his fullness rasping my core.

Breaking the kiss, I threw my head back, quick bursts of breath all I could manage and I began to raise and lower my hips, slowly at first, trying to become used to the sensation, and then rapidly increasing my pace. I could see Bruce throw his hands back, clutching the headboard with his hands as his face infused with passion, eye glazed as he stared at my heaving bosom.

Feeling the pressure building in my lower body, I eased my body upwards, almost entirely off of Bruce's before slowly sinking down, letting him rasp my sensitive core until finally, I collapsed, cresting in a mind-numbing crescendo, fire filling my soul and flames bursting in my body. Lost in sensation, I could barely make out Bruce's guttural groan, but I could feel his arms sliding around me, holding me close as we soared into the heavens.

Long minutes later, I raised my head wearily; body sated, and pressed a firm kiss to Bruce's jaw. He mumbled something incomprehensible, nuzzling his chin against my hair and shifting to hold me closer, pulling me tightly against his body. I snuggled in, content for the moment just to lay against my lover, keeping reality at bay for a little longer.

But my thoughts began to drift away from the man who had brought me such sensual abandon, returning to the loss of our teammate and friend and I began to wonder in earnest what today would bring to both the Justice League and to the lives of Bruce and me. Unable to stem the tide of my thoughts, I shifted to Bruce's side, tucking myself against his body, his arm wrapping around me as I lay my head in the hollow between his shoulder and collar bone.

"Bruce?" I asked quietly, wanting to find out his opinions and feelings about what course would now be best for the Justice League to follow.

"Hmmm?" he murmured, eyes still closed in repletion and a soft smile playing at his lips. I almost hated to disturb the peaceful aura he emitted, knowing of its rarity. But I couldn't keep the question from forming.

"What happens now?"

He didn't pretend to misunderstand my question. Instead, he opened one eye, looking down at me and meeting my gaze. He paused for a few moments, obviously pondering the answer to my query before answering softly, "I don't know."

I was surprised by his response and yet, some part of me had expected it. We hadn't dealt with a situation like this one before, the loss of a figure such as Superman, and there were no protocols, no plan in place to address the current state of affairs. But I was slightly staggered that Bruce had answered my question with uncertainty, that he had trusted me enough to not have to put on the brave front, the all-knowing detective façade.

I respected his brilliant mind, but I also respected that he was willing to admit his flaws, his doubts, even if it was only to me and no one else. My heart overflowed with the knowledge that I alone brought forth this response in Bruce, the stalwart warrior admitting that sometimes his shield was penetrable.

"You were right yesterday," he acknowledged quietly, his breath ruffling my hair and his voice calm and seemingly composed. But I could hear the sadness that laced his voice, rasping the sexy tenor into something deeper, a little harsher. "There's no conclusive evidence that he's gone."

I lay silent; letting him work out his words in his head, decide on his plan of action before conceptualizing it out loud to me.

"I'm going to go back to the crime scene and gather the evidence, find irrefutable proof that he didn't simply disappear."

His face set, the expression obstinate and passionate in its intensity, I rejoiced to see the determination that was written across his face, proof positive that Batman was prepared to handle this situation, putting his skills and abilities to constructive use, decoding clues and deciphering the mystery of the "death" of Superman. Caressing his jaw, I took heart in the stubborn set to his chin and added my help to his cause.

"I'll go with you," I told him in an unwavering tone. Meeting my eyes, the corner of his mouth teased up in the hint of a smile at my offer, at my stanch and steadfast support of his idea.

"Sorry, Princess, this is something that I have to do alone."

I blinked in his answer before inclining my head in answer, understanding that some things are best left to the experts—in this case, Batman. And that no matter how close we had grown, he was still a loner, a wolf no matter how fleeced he appeared, mussed and replete from our morning activities.

"If you need me…" I started before trailing off, realizing that the offer was unnecessary between us, that we had grown close enough to not have to make the suggestion and that he understood my unfinished statement.

He nodded in response and for a few minutes, we lazed in idle splendor, content with the company and the silence between us.

"Bruce…" I began, hesitated to finish my sentence, certain that he would prefer not to hear the news that I was about to impart.

He reached down, gently clasping my chin and raising my face to his, reading the hesitant expression mired in my features. The strength mirrored in his face gave me the confidence to again speak, although the words caught in my throat.

"I have to contact Mother."

He blinked once, twice before processing that thought in this analytical way, obviously understanding that I would have to communicate with my home of Themyscira, to have my mother bring the proper clothes for Superman's memorial service. Naturally I was both eager and concerned about seeing my mother again - our relationship had suffered when she had exiled me for bringing men to Themyscira, men that included Bruce in their ranks. I wasn't sure how I would handle seeing her again; much less comprehend how I was going to explain my newly consummated and loving relationship to the Amazon Queen. Frankly, much as I loved and respected my mother, she was one of the few beings on this planet that could cause fear to rise in my heart. Her reaction to Bruce and I together would almost certainly be disapproval and we were already on tenuous terms thanks to my running off to become Wonder Woman and my subsequent actions to save my homeland. I didn't want to risk the temper of my mother, but neither did I want to cower in fear, hiding my relationship in the shadows as if ashamed.

Luckily, I had a little time to prepare for this situation, to figure out how to explain to my mother that I was happily involved with a man of worth and high caliber, a hero of Themyscira.

"I'm sure she will attend the memorial services with me." I knew that the world would need to say goodbye to Superman and that a memorial service would be held in his honor in the coming days. Of that I had little doubt. We too needed to say goodbye, to pay homage to our fallen comrade as a team, as a League, as his friends.

"I'm not going," he stated. Shocked, I jerked my head up to meet his eyes, to see the determination written in the dark orbs, the obsession that burned in the depths. And, reading that expression, I understand that again, this was something that he had to do alone, to make his peace with Superman in his own way, his own time. He needed to work, to drive and focus himself so that he could process his emotions in whatever manner was most successful for him. I could respect his decision to decline to attend the services, but I knew that it was still important for him to make an appearance in whatever fashion he deemed best.

"You need to be there," I told him, kissing him softly. As he began to speak, I laid a finger across his lips, halting his words. "You need to honor him, to honor your friendship and hiding here in the cave during the service won't bring him back. If you want to find out what happened to him, and you will, you need to remember who you're searching for."

I paused, rubbing a finger along his lower lip, caressing the skin with the pad of my thumb. A verse from a poem sprang to mind and I spoke in a murmur the words:

"_Out of darkness_

_Into light,_

_And out of light_

_Into darkness again_

Step into the light and honor our friend and then return to the darkness to find the answers you seek."

He pressed a gentle kiss to my thumb before pulling me into his arms, stealing another few moments from the world, together and content in our solitude, knowing that turbulent times lay ahead, just outside our arms, a bastion of strength in the emotional storm we had found ourselves adrift in.

_Next chapter: Killer Queen – A royal visitor arrives…_

_So, what do you think? Love it, hate it? Let me know, get some points… Poetry credit to Richard Henry Stoddard, The Flight of the Arrow._


	5. Killer Queen

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. Things have changed significantly in Bruce and Diana's relationship overnight, in many ways. Now they face a new challenge – Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons and Diana's mother._

**Chapter 5, Killer Queen**

"She's a Killer Queen  
Gunpowder, gelatine  
Dynamite with a laser beam  
Guaranteed to blow your mind"

_Diana's perspective-_

After leaving the safety and security of Bruce's arms that morning, I had returned to the real world, anxious to contact my mother and prepare for Superman's memorial service. I was still wary of returning to the fold of the Amazon world, of my mother's reaction when I explained to her that I was not only involved with a man, but intimate with one, in love with one. She so often judged based on her own previous experiences, and with Hades she had made a grievous mistake that caused thousands of years of repentance.

I was deeply concerned that my mother would visit her own past on my present, that she would try to relate her love of Hades with my love of Bruce. To my mind, the two simply did not correlate – I had fallen deeply for a hero, a man who was concerned with bringing light and justice, safety and strength to his city, a man who worked passionately to better the lives of others because his own had been so irrevocably changed. He had never tricked me or lied to me and I knew that when push came to shove, Bruce would tell me the hard, unvarnished truth no matter how much I preferred not to hear it. He was that kind of man and I respected the honest bent to his personality, the quiet power and confidence that was reflected in all of his actions.

My mother knew of Batman, but she did not know Bruce, the man who held me in the quiet of the night and made love with an intensity that burned me. Although I wasn't sure I would phrase it to my mother in quite that way.

Upon departing from Wayne Manor, I had sent a missive to my mother, informing her of the death of one of the male heroes of Themyscira and requesting that she bring my funereal clothes to the hotel in Metropolis I would be staying in during the days leading up to the memorial proceedings. I kept the tone of the letter formal, hoping that my mother would respond to the unwritten request in the lines – that I wanted her presence in Metropolis, at my side to help me grieve. My mother and I occasionally conversed through letters with carrier birds being the liaison between mother and daughter. I may have been unable to set foot on the land of my home, but I still desired contact with my mother.

However, I had not mentioned to her that I had embarked upon a relationship with a man, a knight of the darkness.

Staying in Metropolis seemed the most sensible option – the Watchtower still contained so many memories of Superman, of the seven of us laughing in friendly banter, the episode with the karaoke machine, the shared iced mochas and Monitor Womb duties. I did not have it in me to return just yet, preferring to grieve and remember my friend in and amongst the world. To show the world that we, the Justice League, were also saddened at our loss, but that we would carry on, that we would be noticeable figures even if there were only six.

And remaining with Bruce in Wayne Manor, even in Gotham, was incredibly selfish under the circumstances. Right now, I needed to be Wonder Woman, to face the world with strength and purpose, and Bruce needed to be Batman, to investigate for the answers he so desperately sought concerning the "death" of Superman.

Standing in the window of my hotel room, I began to rehearse what I would say to my mother about my relationship, much as I had when I had returned to Themyscira after the formation of the Justice League. Annoyed by my childish actions, my constant need for approval from my mother even after my banishment, I forced all thoughts of her from my head, instead trying to consider all the steps the League would have to take in the coming days. Today, even tomorrow, we needed our space, our solitude in order to mourn, but after we memorialized our friend, we would need to find someone to take his place, no, to step in as a teammate.

Listing the possibilities in my head, I barely managed to hear the knock at the door hearkening of my mother's arrival to the city of Metropolis. I stood, taking a deep breath filled with both anticipation and nerves before straightening my shoulders and throwing my head back, hoping I eluded confidence and grace.

Striding to the door, I opened it in one smooth motion and there she stood: Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons and my mother.

"Diana," she stated in greeting, regally inclining her head. Allowing her to entrance, I closed the door as she marched through, bestowing her imperial gaze on the room I currently occupied. My nerves began to increase, to jump and pulse in my stomach as I stood, awaiting my mother's approval and response after so many months without each other.

Turning, she held out her arms and I rushed into them, knowing that I had missed the feel of her loving embrace. "My little sun and stars," she whispered, stroking a hand over my hair and holding me tightly. Moments later, pulling back, I feasted on the sight of the mother I had been so long without, been missing so much in the interim months since my exile.

"I've missed you, Mother."

"And I, you," she responded, lacing her hand in mine and pulling me to the side of the bed where we sat companionably side by side, enjoying the moment as mother and daughter were together once again.

But I knew that I would not be completely at ease with my mother until I had shared the news of my relationship with Bruce, no matter her potential disapproval. My body automatically began to tense at the thought and I sighed, hating that my newfound feelings would so disturb my mother. But I knew that her disapproval did not have the ability to supersede my love, would not be able to stop me from taking pleasure in his company and enjoying each step, each moment of our relationship as it progressed.

"Mother," I said, standing and walking the room, pacing until my eyes lighted upon the mirror hanging on the opposite wall, reflecting my image back at me. I saw a proud woman, a woman of formidable courage and strength, champion of the Amazons, but I could see also see a scared little girl, a child afraid to divulge to her mother what she is sure will not be appreciated or accepted. But in between those two versions of myself, I also found a woman in love with an ordinary human being with an extraordinary sense of purpose and heroism. His cause was just, his actions needed, and his presence a saving grace to Gotham and to the world.

My mother would simply have to move past her innate prejudices and realize that I was able to make my own confident and correct decisions. She had eventually come to terms with my taking on the mantle of Wonder Woman and she would simply have to come to terms with my decision concerning my relationship with Bruce as well.

Turning to face her, my shoulders squared and my eyes lit with my resolution, I finished my sentence. "I have become involved with a man."

"A man?" She asked, distaste curling in her lips and disappointment coloring her eyes. But I held firm in the face of my fears, showing no hesitation and letting my mother know that I meant business and that I would not yield when shown her obvious irritation with the situation.

'Yes, Mother, a man."

"And do I know of this _man_?" she questioned me, pacing a subtle emphasis on the last word, as if she were still unsure that she had heard me correctly, that an Amazon, much less her daughter, was daring to disobey Themysciran edict.

"Yes, Mother," I replied, letting a soft smile grace my lips as I allowed my mind to dream a little about my lover and teammate. Holding the expression, I looked back at her, letting her read the contentment blazing on my face. "He's one of the heroes of Themyscira, one of the men that you chose to honor for saving our sisters and our home."

She stared at me for a moment, obviously allowing my statement to sink in, to think over the four men that had been honored for their valor against Felix Faust and Hades. Each had their own strengths, their own unique characteristics, but only one of these men had caught my attention and ensnared my heart. Flash was of course great fun and a caring individual, but he often displayed an immaturity that I had yet to understand or be able to handle capably. J'onn was a survivor, persevering after the loss of his family and his planet, a very kind man, but he was also very stoic and reserved, a trait I attributed to his multitude of losses. Superman was my equal in strength, a man who had chosen to use his inborn powers to help his world; however, he rarely saw the world in shades other than black and white, always striving to do the right thing and so concerned about how he was viewed by the world. And I would hardly be telling my mother with such happiness that I had fallen for the man whom we were ceremonially burying, the reason for her visit to Metropolis.

No, I had chosen the man of supposed darkness, detective with unbounded intelligence and unending determination, a challenge to be sure but a man who was not scared or cowed by my physical abilities – he instead defied me to be better, to seek out my weaknesses and eradicate them as best possible. We were each competitors by nature, both kind in heart, and each stubborn, strong-willed, and unwavering in our course of actions. Although he would never admit it, Bruce enjoyed the fact that I was comfortable enough to tease him, to not be put off by his intimidating manner, that I had sufficient strength to allow him to be weak, even if for a moment. I, somewhat obstinately, preferred Bruce's perverse nature, that he always sought to find the answers, that he was often uncooperative and inflexible, unmoved by emotional arguments and illogical conclusions. He constantly kept me on my toes in every respect, but he also allowed me to see what lay beneath the demanding demeanor, to see the eyes beyond the cowl, the heart behind the insignia, and the scars that lay within the finely honed body.

"It is the Batman," she stated, secure in her answer and I looked at her in surprise, unsure of how she had managed to reach this conclusion so easily.

"Yes, Mother. How did you know?"

"There are pieces of myself in you, Diana. I can understand why you have chosen this man above the others, just as I once chose Hades, the Prince of Darkness."

"Do _not_ compare him to Hades, Mother. He may have chosen to work in the darkness, but he strives to bring light to his city, to give the citizens a sense of safety and security. He is their harbor in the storm, Mother, and I cannot help but respect that."

I paused, taking a deep breath before I uttered my next words, words I was sure that my mother would appreciate. "And you must respect my choices and wishes in this, Mother."

"Diana," she began, somewhat hesitant and I was startled to see the queenly demeanor droop for a moment, her eyes closing as she searched to find the words to answer my demand. "My daughter, I only seek your happiness. You are a part of this world now and I am pleased that you have found a place in it. If you are truly _content_ with this…man…I can do little more than afford you my blessing."

Inwardly, I let out a sigh relief, pleased beyond belief that my mother had not taken me to task for daring to fall in love with a man, that she was attempting to understand how I had been able to embark upon this relationship, why I had chosen this particular man above all others.

"However, that blessing comes with grave reservations, daughter, for he is a creature of the night, and you, you are my little sun and stars. The darkness is not a place for you."

"I appreciate your concern, Mother, but I know what I am about. I know what _he_ is about, what he fights for, what he lives for. _He_ is the man that I have fallen in love with."

She closed her eyes at my words, sadness written on her face, before rising to her feet and cupping my shoulders, our gazes meeting – one in confidence and one in sorrow.

"I never thought this day would come, daughter, and now I find that it was not enough time. I realize now that this was the path that your feet were set on from your creation. The gods destined you for great things, Diana, and you have secured a place in this world, as part of this Justice League. I have no choice but to believe that you have been blessed in this love as well, that you have the fortitude and courage to choose wisely in a partner for yourself, and the inner strength to search for inner beauty."

Tears began to well in my eyes, escaping to cling to my cheeks as I realized that this was the closest my mother would come to capitulation, a statement of respect for both me and my relationship. I knew that she would still entertain reservations, but there was little I could do to prove to her that I was no longer a little girl, that I was capable of deciding upon and sustaining a relationship, that I no longer belonged solely to her and my Amazon sisters.

"I am not wrong about him, Mother," I whispered, pressing my cheek to hers in gratitude and comfort for her words and her actions.

"Time will tell, Diana," she said, giving me a small hug before returning to her stately manner, to becoming my queen rather than my mother. And with that, we turned to matters of state and Superman.

_Next: Obsession - Batman searches for clues to reveal what has happened to Superman..._

_So, what do you think of Hippolyta? I choose to portray a mother who ultimately respects Diana's decision, but is saddened because of it and because she is unsure if this man is the correct one for her little "sun and stars". A somewhat typical mother reaction - no one is good enough for her baby. And in this case, no man._


	6. Obsession

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

**_Note: I'm currently a little irritated with this site - no one is receiving any alerts and I am unable to respond to my reviews as I usually try my best to. Very frustrating. So I'm in a bit of a quandry - the number of reviews has dropped off significantly and I'm not sure if it's due to me/the story or to the site itself. Should I continue posting even throughout this site crisis or wait until everything's fixed before posting again? Help!_**

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. Now, Bruce will try and find out what's happened to Superman, to explain his disappearance and his "death"._

**Chapter 6, Obsession, by Animotion**

"You are an obsession, I cannot sleep…There's no balance, no equality, be still, I will not accept defeat"

_Bruce's perspective-_

Making love to Diana that morning had been heaven, a thought and a wish finally fulfilled, one I'd never expected to have the chance to undertake, much less to enjoy to such an amazing extent. The woman was truly a warrior, both on the field of battle and under the sheets. In an unusual action for me, after bidding her goodbye this morning with a passionate kiss and an affectionate glance, I had said a little prayer of thanks to the gods who had created her, for allowing her light to enter my life and allowing her to love a mere mortal such as myself.

Last night, and this morning as well, had truly been amazing, the most intense sexual encounter I had yet to be a part of, a melding of minds and bodies, of emotions and sensations, of lust and love. My mind spent a few delicious moments considering all the possibilities before us, the sensual worlds that had opened up to us courtesy of our coming together last night. I quickly discovered that my mind, at least where Diana was concerned, had a very sexual and perverse bent towards whips and chains, lassos, to letting my Wonder Woman unleash her dominatrix tendencies in the sexual arena.

However, reliving the memories of our romp was unlikely to allow me to focus on the matter currently at hand, investigating the disappearance of Superman and ultimately coming to the conclusion that the man whom we were mourning wasn't dead. I felt assured that with the proper exploration into the evidence that I would be able to definitively prove that Superman was still alive, that he hadn't simply died in front of our horrified and shocked eyes.

Returning to Metropolis to gather the evidence was my highest priority right now and the luscious memories and lascivious thoughts of Diana would simply have to wait until my mind was otherwise unoccupied.

I spent the remainder of the morning on the quiet streets of Metropolis, the very stillness eerie as if the buildings themselves were in mourning. Roses were strewn in abandon and in memory along the sidewalks, particularly in the area where I was working, the section where Toyman had destroyed the Man of Steel and the heart of the city. The colorful blooms wafted perfume into the air and the scent lingered, something pleasant to focus on rather than the task at hand.

The riotous display of roses reminded me somewhat subtly of my mother's rose garden and my first date with Diana. That day had been one of peace and contentment, unlike yesterday, and although it had ended precipitously, it was still a fond memory to reflect upon in the midst of this horror scene, this memorial site for the world's beloved Superman strewn with roses and grief.

Although I now refused to believe that Superman was gone, I couldn't help but continually glance at the sky now and then, staring at the spot where he had disappeared in that glowing green light and my heart hurt at the sight. I kept expecting him to come racing in, chest emblazoned with that ridiculous 'S' and cape billowing in the wind as he came to a halt on the ground.

Little had been disturbed in the area, as if the citizens of Metropolis were hoping that by leaving everything exactly as it was that Superman would return to them. I aimed to prove them right, but to do that I needed the evidence littered in the streets, every piece of material I could get my hand on, swabs and samples of the area, and a clear objective mind.

And so, I shut down my emotions, leaving my mind to run free, racing to gather clues and facts, any data that would substantiate my claim that Superman was indeed alive.

Removing myself from the scene, all evidence collected and stored in the posterior of the jet, I took to the skies, leaving behind the sea of roses and the misery of Metropolis.

Once safely back in the Bat-cave, I spent hours sorting through the evidence, discarding ideas and theories, feverishly searching to find the answers I so desperately sought, to be able to prove to the world that the detective had again found the clues and solved the case: that Superman was not dead as the world presumed.

A battery of tests seemed to only support my conclusion that a man could not simply disappear from before our very eyes, matter transformed into nothingness.

Clutching the ragged piece of red cloth, I sat in front of the computer monitor, replaying over and over again the video feed of Superman surrounded by that deadly green glow. The darkness of his skeleton stood out against the green, the blinding white of his clothes accentuated in color contrast and the agonized expression on his face almost crystal clear. At first, it had been a bit heart wrenching to watch, but I had soon locked myself into detective mode, eschewing all emotion in search of something that would explain to me what had happened to Superman.

I couldn't think of him as Clark right now, the mild-mannered reporter and son of Ma and Pa Kent, long-time associate, and, if I admitted it to myself, friend of Bruce Wayne. Right now, he was simply Superman, teammate and occasional rival.

Just hours after Diana had left this morning, my communicator had begun going off almost in constant succession, but I had left it unanswered, preferring to concentrate on the work in front of me. I knew that Diana was trying to get in touch with me, possibly to let me know how things had progressed with her mother, but I also knew that I was emotionally unprepared to deal with Diana and her concern at this hour. And if I refused to let my love disturb my peace, the rest of the Justice League could go to hell, having little chance of gaining my attention and my promise to attend the funeral this evening.

Watching the screen, I was almost totally unaware of the fact that my fingers couldn't seem to let go of the tattered cape, that I was unconsciously rubbing it with my gloved thumb as it lay clenched in my fist. I couldn't seem to release it, to add it to the pile of evidence. To let it go meant letting Superman go and I wasn't prepared to do that as of yet.

Hearing steady footsteps approaching from the Manor entrance to the Bat-cave, I spoke without turning around.

"What is it, Alfred?"

He stopped a few feet behind my chair, speaking quietly and solemnly. "I'm afraid it's time, Master Bruce."

Keeping my eyes glued to the screen, still intent on examining the visual portrait of Superman's disappearance before me, I responded to Alfred's calm command in a steady voice, striving to keep the emotion from my voice.

"I'm not going to the funeral."

"Why?" Alfred almost stuttered and I knew then that I had shocked the old man to his toes. I could practically see the wizened old face in an expression of total and utter surprise behind me, unprepared for my statement.

But I felt certain in my decision that I was of more importance here trying to bring Superman back than grieving for the man in public, circling the wagons of our team. The entire thought made me uncomfortable and I knew that being here was what was best for me right now, being here bringing him back to the fold.

"Because he's not dead," I told Alfred, rising from my chair and strolling over to the evidence pile that lay on a nearby table. Lamps lit the area otherwise enclosed in darkness, the table littered with the items I had brought back from Metropolis this morning – street signs, electrical boxes, anything that seemed to have been of use.

Alfred followed my path and I began to explain to him what I had uncovered during my explorations today.

"What tipped me off was the lack of evidence," I told my butler-cum-father figure, somewhat pleased to have someone to listen to my theories. I knew that Alfred would tell me flatly whether or not he thought my absence from the funeral was a poor idea and I needed him to understand that I wasn't simply avoiding attendance. Well, I was avoiding the public crowd, but I had more important things to do here in the cave, that I was honoring my friend by returning him to us.

"Sir?"

"I brought all this from the crime scene and I've examined it every way I know how."

"And you found?" Alfred asked, gesturing to the table laden with evidential scraps.

"Absolutely nothing," I said, finally turning to face Alfred. "No scorching, no residue, no radiation. Objects were here, then they were gone."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Alfred stated.

"Matter can't be created or destroyed," I told him, "Just changed from one form into another."

"As you say, sir. I believe I heard something about that when I attended grammar school."

"So, unless the Law of Conservation of Mass has been repealed, there's still hope."

Hope, the phrase that had been rolling around in my head all day but I had been afraid to answer. I didn't live off of hope; concrete proof was necessary for survival, not speculation or, god forbid, hope. Hope was the last resort of fools and I was desperately concerned that today had been an exercise in futility and foolishness, but the evidence was supporting my claim that he was not dead – Superman could not be dead. And through hope or not, I was going to prove it.

"That's _wonderful _news, Master Bruce," Alfred maintained, but I could hear the frisson of disbelief and sorrow in his voice, the tailored English accent laced with concern for me and my actions. I simply steeled my shoulders and waited for the continuation of his statement, knowing that he would try and convince me to be present at the ceremony this evening.

"Nevertheless, don't you think you should make an appearance?"

"What for?" I responded to the subtle probing into my motives and decisions. "I've got work to do." And with that statement, I walked back to the computer, the ragged piece of cape still curled into my palm, preparing to continue the search for Superman.

_Next chapter: Simple Man/Red White & Blue, the ceremonial internment service for Superman…_

_Earn yourself some points, review! Remember, every review is worth 5 points. If you manage to get 40 points, I'll write either a one-shot of your choosing or I'll send you an extra chapter that goes at the end of this story. So let me know what you're thinking about the story and get a little extra out of it. Yay!_

_Also, let me clarify one little thing: I have no problem writing one-shots, but I have to say that I'm not going to pair either of these two with anyone else. Just can't write it!_


	7. Simple Man & Red White & Blue

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. Today, the League will gather together in order to mourn the loss of their friend and ceremonially bury him in Metropolis._

**Chapter 7, Simple Man, by Lynyrd Skynyrd/Red White & Blue, by Lynyrd Skynyrd**

A tribute to Superman and to a great band, Lynyrd Skynyrd.

"And be a simple kind of man. Be something you love and understand. Be a simple kind of man."

"You could say we've always been red, white, and blue"

_Diana's perspective-_

Glancing into the mirror one last time, I was pleased with the vision reflected back at me, my formal outfit displaying the gravity and the sorrow of the situation that I was about to face as I prepared to proceed to Superman's ceremonial internment. The gilt gold and white were brightly colored, rather than the black that I knew others would be wearing today. Amazons preferred to celebrate death in combat, to honor the warriors as they made their way into the hands of the gods, much like the Valkeries of Norse tradition who delivered their slain to Valhalla with pomp and pride. The wings extending from my tiara were symbols of the gods and the white cape I added to the white and gold one-piece was secured at my neck with a ruby, evoking the significance of love and royalty, vitality and courage to its wearer.

My mother had chosen not to accompany me to the funereal services, but her presence today had helped me immensely, allowing me to lay down my burdens and to focus on something other than grief and the preparations for this evening. I was still unsure if Bruce would make an appearance, but I knew that I had been unable to get in touch with him through his communicator today, making it unlikely that he would attend tonight.

Still, I hoped that I was incorrect in that conclusion. I needed the support and the League needed his presence as well, to show the world a solid wall of strength and togetherness in this time of sadness and mourning.

After one quick glance at my communicator, hoping that Bruce would realize the necessity of his attendance, I made my way out of the hotel room and walked the few blocks to the site of the services. The towering structure stood tall and proud in Metropolis, dominating the landscape and I could see that I was not alone as I traversed the streets. Instead, I was surrounded by people of all kinds – superheroes and ordinary citizens coming together to mourn the loss of Superman, to find comfort collectively, and to offer our condolences and our goodbyes.

Entering the structure, I was surprised to find it filled with voices and a few familiar faces. People were quietly laughing and chatting, reminiscing and remembering the Man of Steel. I took a seat in the front pew between J'onn and Shayera, scanning the crowd for one particular face, but having yet to see it, either in masked form or sans cowl. My heart sunk a little when I noticed Alfred leading a young dark-haired boy through the crowd, an obvious sign that neither Bruce nor Batman would be making an appearance here for the service. But a small part of me still clung to the hope that perhaps he would find his own way to be a part of this scene, to mourn along with the rest of us gathered here tonight.

I assumed the young boy with Alfred was Tim Drake, Bruce's latest incarnation of Robin, but we had yet to be introduced. Circumstances thus far had not permitted our meeting; however, I made a mental note to make sure that I made myself known to the young apprentice to Batman, one of his adopted sons.

The Green Lantern Corps was gathered together, a circle of green overcoats and lantern insignias. I could see Orion, whom Batman and I had made the acquaintance of on New Genesis in an effort to defeat the combined forces of Darkseid and Brainiac. Aquaman and his wife, Mera, were talking quietly with Dr. Fate and his wife, but I was unable to hear their conversation from where I sat. J'onn kept turning his head down the long aisle, searching somewhat anxiously for Batman, but I did not have the heart to let him know that Batman was rather unlikely to make an appearance at this event.

"Batman hasn't arrived," J'onn stated before turning back to look directly at me, knowing of the connection between us. "Have you spoken with him?"

"He's still not answering calls," I told J'onn, letting my eyes say what my words could not – that Batman would not be present tonight, could not bring himself to abandon his quest to find Superman alive and well and join the others of the League in solitude and grief.

"He doesn't handle loss very well," I reminded my companions, lowering my eyes to the ground as I realized that this would simply prove a reminder to Batman of the loss of his parents, of what he had to face everyday without, of what had made him the hero of Gotham. Not handling loss well was an understatement, to say the least. He was simply unable to process the emotions properly, stunted by his parents' deaths, and I truly could not blame him for hiding from this gathering today, from sealing himself in his cave obsessively searching for his friend and mine.

But still, something in my heart said that even he would not completely skip this event, that he would make it in his own way, in the shadows and in the dark of night.

A sudden rise of noise from the back of the building caused all of us to drop the subject of Batman and instead, turn our eyes to the cause of the commotion in the foyer.

"Is that him now?" Shayera asked, making her way to her feet to try without success to see over the heads of the crowd. "I can't see!"

"I can," came a voice from the side of our pew and rising in obvious anger was Lois Lane, Superman's longtime girlfriend. As the aisle began to clear, I could see Lex Luthor parting the sea of people, striding forward with a blank expression on his face.

Lois met him halfway down the aisle, violet eyes blazing in shock and fury as she made her way to confront Superman's lifetime nemesis. "Luthor, how dare you show your face here!" Her voice quavered with emotion, but she kept her shoulders straight and her eyes on her target.

"Lois," Luthor murmured quietly, but before he could utter another word, Lois took advantage of the moment and slapped him across the face, the sound echoing through the sudden stillness of the crowd.

"You've come to gloat! You've tried to get rid of him for years. Are you happy now? Isn't this what you've always wanted? I hate you, I hate you…" Her anger suddenly erupted into tears and she ineffectively beat on Luthor's chest before collapsing onto him, quietly sobbing into his suit jacket and he pulled her close, stroking her dark hair.

His hushed response was heard throughout the building – "Believe it or not, I'm going to miss him too."

A lump rose in my throat, the emotion of the moment finally getting through to me and I laid my head in my hands, praying to Hera for strength both for my team and for myself.

Finally, after long moments, J'onn made his way to the head of the structure. He had decided to speak the eulogy for this event and none of the rest of us had disagreed with his decision, content enough to let him speak for all of us, the collective team and world lost without Superman among its ranks.

His calm voice echoed through the mass of humanity jammed into the pews, some with handkerchiefs to stem the downpour of tears, some with quiet sobs, and others stoically trying to wipe all emotion from their faces, desperate to control themselves as the weight of the world came falling down on us, as we realized exactly who we were laying to rest.

"Though we gather here today, bound together in sorrow and loss, we share a precious gift – we are all of us privileged to live a life that has been touched by Superman."

Turning my head to the left, I saw Flash, sitting where J'onn had been, quietly trying to stifle the flow of tears, and Shayera, to my right, facing forward bravely, her throat working to capture her sobs of emotion. I myself spent the moments in quiet contemplation, in prayers to my gods to bless the passage for Superman, to light his way after death as he traversed into the afterlife.

"The Man of Steel possessed many extraordinary gifts and he shared them with us freely. None of these gifts were more remarkable than his ability to discern what needed to be done and his unfailing courage in doing it, whatever the personal cost."

Tears welled in my eyes as J'onn's impassioned speech reached my heart, saddened more so by the loss of a friend, the loss of the man who had been a leader and a companion to us all. I had known him so little a time and yet he had made his mark on my life, teaching me about the simplicity of strength and heroics, about what it meant to do the right thing, no matter what the cost, just as J'onn had said. He had been a man of simple values, of courage and conviction, and he had freely lent the rest of us his strength and wisdom. I could only imagine if this was the magnitude of grief that I felt for the loss of Superman, what a man such as Bruce, a man who had known Superman much longer than I, was going through, was experiencing with the loss of what he may have considered his best friend.

I remembered the depths of emotions and sadness when I had returned to Themyscira to find that my sisters and mother had been turned to stone by the sorcerer, Felix Faust. I had been utterly devastated, realizing that I was alone in my homeland, the only Amazon left to stop Faust's evil machinations and rescue the women of Themyscira. I had been enraged that someone had dared to hurt my family of sisterhood, distressed beyond belief that I alone had to find the answers to returning them from stone to human.

But, having been appealed to by the Justice League, I had permitted their help, allowing the burden to be carried on more shoulders than just mine. And now, I realized that Bruce was carrying his burden of trying to discover the actual whereabouts of Superman on his own broad shoulders and I made a vow to aid and assist him in whatever way I could in his search. Of course, he would have to accept my help and I wasn't sure that Bruce was prepared to let go of the burden. Still, I would make the offer when the time came.

"Let us all strive to accept his gift and pass it along as an ongoing tribute to Kal-El of Krypton, the immigrant from the stars who taught us all how to be heroes."

Lifting my eyes to J'onn's form standing at the podium, I allowed the tears in my eyes to be set free, washing my cheeks with warmth and emotion. Rising to my feet alongside the other present Justice League members, we walked slowly up to the empty casket at the front near J'onn, hefting the weight and turning in sync. From my position behind John and in front of Flash, we made our way out into the streets of Metropolis under a star soaked sky, my mind replaying J'onn's words about the simple man from Krypton who had lived such a courageous life, fraught with meaning and a simple message of hope.

The shadowed streets wafted with perfume from the roses scattered about our walkway, colorful blooms lighting the darkness of the moment. As our procession continued, people stood along the sides of the street, tears falling, hats lowered, and hands clasped in sorrow and in prayer.

Grasping my shield more fully in my free hand, some bit of sensation laced up my spine as if I could feel eyes on me. Looking up at the skyline, I saw a dark cape blowing in the wind as the Dark Knight stood obscured in the shadows, making his own tribute to our fallen comrade as we laid him to rest. Once our eyes connected, he immediately moved behind a pillar, not wanting me to see him at this vulnerable point, as he said his own goodbyes, regardless of his belief that Superman was still alive. And I applauded him for the effort, particularly knowing the cost.

Turning my head again forward, our procession continued through Metropolis until we reached a grassy area overshadows by a large 'S', a metal structure resembling Superman's classic insignia. Before it, a gaping hole just large enough for the casket lay, waiting for us to lay down our burden and lead Kal-El of Krypton ceremoniously into the afterlife.

_Next chapter: Hole Hearted – remembering a friend lost in combat…_

_Earn yourself some points, review! Let me know what you're thinking about the story, it's much appreciated...particularly if you missed reading any of the last few chapters..._


	8. Hole Hearted

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. The League finally returns to the Watchtower, minus Batman, and are celebrating the life of their friend and trying to decide how to go on now…_

**Chapter 8, Hole Hearted, by Extreme**

"If I'm not blind, why can't I see, that circle can't find where a square should be…there's a hole in my heart that can only be filled by you, and this hole in my heart can't be filled with the things I do…Hole Hearted…"

_Diana's perspective-_

After the pomp and formality of the ceremonial internment, the others Leaguers and I, sans Batman, decided to shuffle off the sadness of the circumstances and remember our friend in style, to celebrate his life for the heroic deeds he had done and the simplicity of friendship with which he had honored each of us.

We each returned to our room, intent on discarding our mournful clothes and joining with each other as who we were – as members of the Justice League celebrated the life of a fallen member, enjoying the spirit and camaraderie that was so much a part of our group, a part of our success as teammates.

Gently laying my funeral clothes across the length of my bed, I couldn't help but wish that Bruce would be able to join us, but I knew that wish was futile even as I gave voice to it in my mind. Naught but a wish and a hope, a fleeting thought that found home in my deliberations as I undressed quietly.

Today had certainly been a day fraught with tension and anxiety, emotionally draining and I wouldn't have minded a few moments of peace and quiet in which to reflect back on all that had occurred these past few days. I was no longer a virgin, but an Amazon deflowered by a man, and the experience had been extraordinary, one I was looking forward to repeating as soon as possible, as soon as things settled within the League and within Bruce's mind. My mother had taken the news of my budding relationship with Bruce rather well, certainly better than I had expected her to. She had somehow managed to put aside her Amazon disgust for men, at least in part, and wish me happiness, regardless of her own feelings on the matter. I had no doubt what those feelings were, but I was pleased to note that my mother was allowing me to make my own decisions, possibly my own mistakes.

But I couldn't help but think that my relationship with Bruce was the furthest thing from a mistake than anything else I had ever embarked upon. He gave me such strength, such a solid and quiet form of love, allowing me to be my own woman while simultaneously being his partner, his friend, and his lover. Not many men were capable of such a feat, of such magnanimous equality.

And it was comforting to consider that I was managing, even slightly, to influence the decision of what had to be one of the most stubborn men ever created by the gods. He had been so intent on not attending the funeral, on staying in the shadows of the cave, and instead, I understood that he had listened to my thoughts and viewpoint on the matter and had done as I had suggested, honoring his friend with an appearance. Whether anyone else realized that or not was a moot point – he knew and I knew that he had made the effort, that he had taken my words to heart and to consideration.

With that thought in my mind, I threw on my Wonder Woman costume, preparing to escape the sadness of the day and rejoice in remembering a friend as he truly deserved to be honored: with smiles, with laughter, and with love.

Gathering in one of the common rooms of the Watchtower, we each sat at one of the chairs of a round table, taking turns sharing anecdotes about Superman and divulging his little idiosyncrasies. While I had been changing, Flash had been busy in the kitchen, preparing glasses of juice for each of us. So there we sat, bonding over orange juice and reminiscing about a fallen friend, laughter bouncing off the walls and bellies aching with amusement rather than sorrow.

And it felt good.

Other than the black armbands, one would never know that we were in mourning. Across the table, Shayera's wings fluttered with each bout of laughter, one of the first times I had seen her truly look content with herself, content with the moment. To my left, J'onn sat quietly enjoying himself as well, his soft chuckles and happy smile at odds with his usual stoically fixed façade. Looking to my right, I realized that Flash looked much the same as usual, the lightning fast grin engaged and the laughter ever present, but he also looked oddly relaxed, as if the weight was off his shoulders for the time being as he passed happy minutes with his friends.

John stood just behind his chair between Shayera and Flash, hands gesturing as he recited a tale of one of the many funny moments there had been between he and Superman. He too had relaxed his customary rigid stance, shoulders shaking in laughter as he tried desperately to get the words to exit his mouth around his gales of mirth.

Eyes shining, each of us rapt in the words of the Green Lantern, I couldn't help but think that this was the right way to say goodbye to our friend, by remembering him for himself and not just as Superman.

"And Superman holds the grenade in his hands like this," he gestures, cupping his palms around an imaginary grenade as Superman had done. "So it blows and he doesn't even move. And I said 'Are you alright?' And he says…"

"This is the best part," Flash smiles, obviously having heard this story before.

"And he says, 'Fine, and you?'"

We all burst out in merriment, enjoying a good laugh at Superman's expense. I couldn't remember when I had been happier surrounded by my teammates, other than Flash's little endeavor into teaching us the joys of karaoke. The moment was only marred by the absence of both Batman and Superman, but somehow, I couldn't see Bruce appreciating the hilarity of our gathering, particularly while in Batman guise. Too soft an image for his ego and his hard-nosed persona.

And then Shayera reached down for her glass, lifting it to the sky and raising her juice in toast and in salutation to our missing comrade.

"To Superman," she said, smiling softly as the rest of us echoed her words and her movements, raising our drinks, clinking the glasses together and downing the liquid refreshment as a tribute.

As the moment of levity faded, J'onn rolled his glass between his hands, finally bringing up the subject that the rest of us had hesitated to speak of, that of finding a replacement, no, a recruit for the Justice League.

"Perhaps this isn't the best time for this," he began, face again hardening into the lines of solemnity he often wore, "but we need to consider replenishing our forces."

Flash was the first to answer, albeit with a few questions of his own. "A new member? Who? Aquaman maybe?"

"Metamorpho," John stated, referring to his friend Rex Mason, who, thanks to a devious act by his father-in-law to be, Simon Stagg, had been transformed so that he was able to shape-shift, even morphing his body into other chemical elements or combination thereof.

"Is Supergirl old enough?" Shayera asked. Supergirl was known throughout the hero world as Superman's cousin, a girl with similar powers to Superman but still in the development stages thanks to her youthful age.

And then it occurred to me: we were looking in the wrong direction for another member. Instead of concentrating on looking outside the team, we first needed to look inside, to preserve our connections within the team already, to ask the obvious person: Batman.

He only considered himself a part-time member, but we all knew that it was more than that, that if we truly needed his help in times of trouble, that Batman would come to our rescue. He had been a savior to us in a number of situations, his tactical nature and questing mind having resuscitated many a failing battle, turning the tide and rewarding us the victory.

When he accompanied us on a mission, he was a key element. Even as a non-metahuman, Batman was able to defeat numerous foes and find the chinks in any villain's armor, thanks to his quick wits and his finely honed physical prowess. Although he would be loathe to admit it, he was the unofficial leader of the Justice League, the one that we all looked to when the darkness of trouble grew the deepest. He was a warrior who could hold his own with anyone and we all respected his abilities and strengths, more so because of what he had to put himself through in order to reach the pinnacle of heroism.

I knew that my suggestion would certainly pass muster with the other members and that, even though I knew it would only be a sop to Batman's already massive ego that we were rewarding him such honor and respect, I was certainly willing to overlook that in order to ensure that he found full-time membership status on the team.

"Before we look outside," I declared, placing my glass down with decisiveness on the table, "We should start with family." They looked at me with questions in their eyes and I laid out my idea to have Batman adopt a permanent place on the team. Without hesitation, without even a single glance at one another, J'onn stated his agreement to my plan and the others followed suit. If indeed we did need to replenish our forces even with the addition of Batman, then we would look outside, look to the other heroes of the world to help our cause and join our team.

And so, I initiated the call, hoping that he would even answer my summons.

"Batman?" I asked. I knew that currently he was in a somewhat fragile and obsessive state of mind, whether he would admit to it or not, and I wanted to make the call myself, hoping that he would at least listen to what I, and the others, had to say. I was unsure of his reception to the idea, but it was an offer that the gods demanded we make, to look inside our little family before thinking of expansion.

"It's Diana."

"Go ahead," he said gruffly and I could tell immediately from the tone of his voice that he wasn't going to be particularly receptive right now, but I persevered, intent on making the request even knowing that we were going to be rebuffed.

Outwardly smiling, I continued, "We're discussing the future of the Justice League. We're hoping you'll make it official and become a full-time member."

I could see the expectation lighting the faces of the others, but I knew what was coming and I braced myself, certain that we were about to receive a let-down, that he hadn't processed his grief or wrapped up his search for Superman enough to even consider our idea.

"I'm busy. Batman out."

Well, I supposed, looking around at the other faces around the table, it could have been worse. I was somewhat surprised that he had even taken the time to listen to me, to our idea without dismissing it out of hand, or worse, ignoring us completely.

"Yeah, Aquaman could definitely pick up Batman's slack in the pompous jerk department," Flash joked with a hint of seriousness and I simply could not let the statement slide.

Glaring at his lightness in the face of Batman's rejection, I could help but defend him. "He's grieving, give him time."

And then, as our circle stood, trying to determine our next course of action, a huge crashing sound filled the quietness, its location from behind me and J'onn quickly reached for my hand, grasping it as the air swept out of the room through the smashed window of the Watchtower.

_Next chapter: The Space Between – an unexpected guest decides to crash the Watchtower, hoping to replace Superman within their ranks…_

_Earn yourself some points, review! Let me know what you're thinking about the story. Pretty please??_


	9. The Space Between

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

_Congrats to Jen/Siriuslover4eva for being the first person to get a one-shot of their choice or an extra chapter! If anyone wants to read her one-shot, it won't be posted on here for awhile, so you'll have to email me. I'm letting it be just Jen's for a little while. HEHE. Yay, Jen!_

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. Now someone has entered the Watchtower, prepared to take over the reigns of the Justice League in the absence of Superman, even though the members are less than impressed…or happy…_

**Chapter 9, The Space Between, by Dave Matthews Band**

"The space between the bullets in our firefight is where I'll be hiding, waiting for you"

_Diana's perspective-_

And then, as our circle stood, trying to determine our next course of action, a huge crashing sound filled the quietness, its location from behind me and J'onn quickly reached for my hand, grasping it as the air swept out of the room through the smashed window of the Watchtower. Anchored by J'onn, I felt my legs sweep out from under me and I fought to remain upright, to stay by the table and not go orbiting out into space.

Luckily, after just seconds of the immense suction pulling me towards the gaping hole in the Watchtower, the backup security system that Batman had installed kicked in, a metal structure slamming closed over the destroyed window, sealing us in the relative safety of our headquarters, air current stilling as the suction was prevented thanks to the forward thinking of our Dark Knight detective.

I looked up to see a large, distastefully featured man dressed predominantly in black and white flying around the Watchtower on what looked to be a motorcycle of some sort, albeit equipped for space travel and flight. The afterburners of the motorcycle glowed brightly, distinctly illuminating his path as he sped around the room, finally coming to a half several meters away from where we all stood, watching his progress and trying to determine his intentions.

Unable to recognize the man, I couldn't help but stare; he seemed a cocky, very brash individual and I wondered what his purpose was not only in destroying part of the Watchtower but also showing up here in such an arrogant and foolish manner. I took an immediate distaste to the intruder, a feeling that only intensified when he stepped off his bike, turning to face us and recklessly stating in a booming voice: "What's with all the long faces, Justice Dweebs?"

His attitude was that of both contempt and conceit, his outfit one that fit rather well with the bike and the attitude. He wore long black leather boots, ragged and dusty, that reached up to his knees and had obviously seen better days. Topping those were knee pads with spikes, grey in color and I could see little flecks of matted dirt and blood on the protrusions. His blue jeans were rough and threadbare, held up only by the grace of the gods and the skull emblazoned black belt that he wore around his waist. A grey t-shirt, covered in sweat and filth clung to his enormous chest with a black leather vest, biceps bulging out of sleeves cut off in ragged lines, with black bands encircling his massive wrists and lower part of his hands. Long black hair stuck up in prickly knots and spikes, as well as more hair down his face in rangy sideburns and an unkempt mustache. My stomach knotted simply looking at the specimen of life in front of me, rolling and boiling with rage that he had chosen this moment to intrude, that had interrupted our celebration of the life that had been Superman's with an ill-timed and ill-conceived entrance.

Striding down the stairs from the raised concourse by the windows, he continued his rant, foul words streaming from his mouth in a deep, forceful voice.

"It's like a wake in here." Pausing at the bottom of the steps, he reached down to the ground, clenching a black band in his hands that had fallen during his circle around the Watchtower, he raised it to his head, stretching the band around his temple at the bottom of his hairline.

"Lighten up! The answer to all your prayers has arrived."

Each of us stood there, staring at the stranger in anger and disgust, I could practically feel the waves of energy pulsing from the group gathered behind me. Compressing my fingers together, I could almost feel the bones grinding in my hands as I sought to contain myself and my extreme annoyance, to reign in my temper and let this man say his piece before I smashed him into little chunks, depositing the remains in space to roam the universe for all time.

"Since we're going to be working together, you can call me Lobo." His overconfident manner was weakening my resolve to not hurt him for disrupting our intimate little memorial for Superman, our sharing of memories and good times, our need to fill the ranks due to his loss.

As his beady red eyes came to rest on us, J'onn strode forward, anger in every line of his green body, shoulders taught and hands fisted.

"You are not welcome here," he told Lobo, irritation lacing his voice and his demeanor. "This is a private gathering."

"Yeah, yeah, Superman kicked the bucket," Lobo stated crassly and I flinched to hear the callous way that he talked about Superman and his demise.

Shayera stalked towards Lobo, hefting her mace and pulling it in tightly to her body, prepared to let it fly at the next sign of disrespect or the first sign of trouble from this intruder.

"I don't know you," Shayera said with deadly calm, "but I'm pretty sure I don't like you."

"Good instincts," John said and our attention immediately focused on him. It was obvious from his words and his tone of voice that he recognized this Lobo figure, and equally obvious that he too held the man in contempt. "His name is Lobo. He's a low-life bounty hunter."

"The Main Man happens to be the best bounty hunter in the known universe," Lobo bragged, punching his chest in apparent pride, clearly holding himself and his skills in high regard. "You could ask Superman if he wasn't busy pushing up daisies."

Preparing to finally speak up with both my fists and my voice, Flash beat me to rebuking Lobo for his coldhearted and uncaring words.

"Hey! Don't talk about him like that! Superman was our friend…" Flash's voice trailed off weakly as the finality of Superman's death finally sank into his consciousness, even using the past tense to speak of our friend and comrade.

But Lobo looked untouched by Flash's valiant defense. "Mine too. I saved his life once, you know."

"That's now how he told the story," Green Lantern declared, moving forward to step right in front of Lobo. We had formed a semi-circle around the front of the interloper, pushing ourselves right in his face, a consciousness group effort to counter the threat presented by this oddly garbed man.

"Whatever. The point is, Superman bit the big one and the Main Man is here to take his place."

Finally, my anger reached boiling point and I could stand neither the sight of him nor his rude and offensive words. Parting the crowd of bodies in front of me, I grasped Lobo by the lapels of his filthy leather vest, yanking him forward and tossing him over my head on a direct collision course with one of the pillars lining the room as a structural support. He sailed across the length of the room, plowing face first into the support beam and before he could do little more than groan, I had plucked him up off the floor again, tightly grasping his left lapel and pulling back my right fist, preparing to clout as far as my anger would carry me.

"You're no Superman," I told him, scowling, brows crunched together as emotion carried me in that moment. And then his next words sealed his fate.

"The ladies say different."

Clenching my teeth, I reared back, seriously considering pounding his face in until he became a permanent part of the Watchtower pillar I held him against, but then I realized that his foul stench would also remain, polluting the air and our thoughts. So instead, I again heaved his giant-sized body across the room, aiming for yet another of the constructs that lined the room. His body struck the pillar, small chunks of it scattering through the air as he dropped to the floor, moaning in pain. He began to rise, his expression filled with a growing fury as we continued to refute his efforts to fill the shoes of Superman.

"Stay down!" ordered Shayera, grasping her mace a little tighter, advanced on the semi-prone figure in front of her.

"On the contrary," J'onn roared, the volume of his voice giving credence as to how much Lobo's appearance had bothered him. "Get up and leave! The Justice League does not require your services at this or any other time."

"Now I get it!" Lobo boomed, rising to his feet and staring at us in disbelief, as if he couldn't possibly believe that we were turning down his ludicrous offer. "You clowns don't think the Main Man is tough enough to join your little Girl Scout Troop. Easy mistake to fix."

And with those words, he strode over to one of the inner walls of the Watchtower, grasping it in his meaty hands and ripping a large piece of it out of the main wall before turning, obviously believing that he had accomplished some amazing feat that we would in turn reward him with membership for.

"C'mon, ladies, let's dance!" he bellowed, hefting the chunk over his head and tossing it like a pebble at where we stood.

Green Lantern immediately exercised the power of his ring, deflecting the hunk of wall by enclosing us in a protective bubble. His action enraged Lobo, who charged the green bubble, trying to break through the light shield and beat on the man creating it. John finally encased Lobo in a bubble rendering his blows ineffectual and totally useless.

"C'mon, Green Long Johns! Let me out of here so I can go upside your head!"

Placing his fingers in his mouth, he whistled and with a rev of the engine and a fiery after burn, his motorcycle roared to life, racing around the room and straight into John, tossing him backwards into one of the consoles and disrupting his concentration long enough to disband his shield.

"Remember to look both ways before you cross me!" Lobo gruffly roared. Shayera, Flash, and I all jumped on him, seeking desperately to halt his tide of destruction and disruption in the Watchtower, but he flung us off like ants at a picnic. He leapt on his motorcycle, but before he could go more than twenty feet, J'onn rose through the floor in his semi-transparent state.

"You talk too much," he stated, sticking out his fist and knocking Lobo roughly into another pillar, and as he collapsed, smoke rose from the debris caused by his body.

Rubbing his head and groaning, he looked up to see Shayera embracing her mace with her hands, asking him, "Are you going to settle down now? Please say no."

I could tell that she was spoiling for a fight, but Lobo still had a few tricks up his sleeve. He whistled, again calling for his method of transportation, but this time, Flash had figured out his plan of attack and yelled, "I got it!" He raced for the bike, leaping on to the seat and endeavoring to halt its progressing, yahooing like a cowboy at first, but he soon changed to yelps as the bike tried to throw him off.

And finally, I had had enough. I turned, striding up to Lobo and grasping him by his neck, yelling, "That's it!" I slammed him into the column and left him to collapse in agony on the floor. J'onn, Shayera, and I stood towering over him while in the background, Flash kept screaming, "I'm okay!" as the motorcycle continued to race around the room, trying to deposit its passenger unceremoniously on the floor.

Lobo finally pushed himself off the ground, rising to his feet while stating arrogantly, "Alright, already, I guess I'll let you all stay on the team with me. But I'm the leader." He pointed to himself, his confidence not having been dented through our little brawl.

Shayera took exception to his words, clocking him hard on the head with her mace, causing him to grunt in pain.

"The Justice League is about more than physical power," J'onn asserted in a tone of fervor and disgust. "It's about ideals, caring, helping."

"Buy me a ticket to Pukesville," Lobo retorted, rubbing his head and grimacing.

Shayera again hefted her mace, raising it high above her head and sending Lobo cowering just slightly, obviously not ready to experience the joys of a mace to the head yet again.

"Alright, alright," he said quickly, blocking his face and head with his hands in anticipation of Shayera's actions. "Say what you want, but the Justice League needs the Main Man." He puffed out his chest, smoothing his vest before taking hold of his lapels with each hand, arrogant swagger returned to every movement.

"He might be right," announced John and we all turned to him in surprise. As silence erupted, we could hear a news bulletin emanating loud and clear from the television screen hung on the wall near John.

Announcer: "Metropolis is under siege. Following a mass jailbreak, dozens of super villains are running amuck downtown. Apparently in celebration of the recent loss of…"

Pictures flashed of the screen of chaos and crime, the villains obviously taking advantage of our mutual distractions of Lobo and Superman. Looking around at each other, eyes meeting, a decision was immediately reached: we needed to help and Lobo would have to come with us. Leaving him in the Watchtower while we raced off to the aid of Metropolis was simply not an option and his brute strength might come in handy just this once.

And on that note, we raced for the javelin, intent on reaching Metropolis and stopping the criminals in their tracks, proving once and for all that the Justice League could function even without Superman in its ranks, no matter how much the thought saddened us all.

We were only five.

_Next chapter: Solitaire – Batman takes a moment to reflect on his friendship with Superman…_

_The most reviews I have for a story is 79 - think you guys can beat it? I challenge you! Plus, remember, if you want me to write you a one-shot, just go back and review some of the old chapters - they're lonely! And I really appreciate your comments..._


	10. Solitaire

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. Batman has been wracking his mind, looking at all the possibilities and paths before him as to why Superman disappeared with no conclusive results. What next?_

**Chapter 10, Solitaire, the Carpenters**

"And solitaire's the only game in town, and every road that takes him, takes him down…a little hope goes up in smoke, just how it goes…"

_Bruce's perspective-_

I still wasn't sure that I had made the correct decision in taking the time from my investigation into Superman's death in order to attend his internment service, even for the few moments that I had been a bystander to the funeral procession. However, I knew that I had made the right choice by idling in the shadows rather than joining the thronging masses in the streets, mournful and copiously weeping.

I had honored Superman and his supposed death from the darkness, a direct reflection of my contrasting style to the boy. Clark had always, even in his hero veneer, been a man of light and goodness, a legend parents told their children about in bedtime stories – his heroic deeds, his handsome countenance, and the decency he displayed towards his fellow man.

In direct opposition, I was merely an urban myth, a phantom spirit in the night who rescued the city of Gotham from the corruption threatening to overrun its streets. In many ways, I was still a vigilante, acting on my own volition and directives, able to sink to the levels of the criminals that I pursued, a lawless figure. I could not remember the last patrol I had been out on where I hadn't managed to break some law during the course of the night – breaking and entering, computer hacking, even minor ones like speeding were par for the course.

Superman and I had always been polar opposites, as were Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne. Clark had adopted a bumbling yet endearing personality while Bruce Wayne was an obnoxious playboy, a man about town who lived for the women and the parties. Admittedly, the lady-killer persona had undergone a massive revamp with the emergence of Diana in my life – I simply couldn't play the silly flirting games with vapid women knowing that at home, or at the Watchtower, lay a woman who could put all of them combined to shame. And admittedly beat the pulp out of me if she believed that I had transgressed.

Bruce had been significantly quieter socially these days and both the blame and my gratitude for that lay at Diana's door. I know that eventually I would have to re-emerge as a player in the Gotham society pages, but I hoped that with a little time, I would find invent some faux identity for Diana, a cover to halt the inevitable questions about the relationship between Bruce Wayne and Wonder Woman, a couple designed to bring out the paparazzi and pressing questions, all of which I wanted to avoid.

Unable to answer either the burning question in my mind or the thoughtful look on Diana's face during the procession, I had chosen instead to hide, concealing myself behind a pillar, ducking into the shadows and shapes of the roof to avoid unwarranted and unwanted attention. While I knew that Diana would understand about the position I had chosen to take tonight, to honor my sometime friend and teammate in my own way, in my element, I still felt that unless I could determine what had happened to Superman, I was a failure, utterly and absolutely.

I was the detective, the crime-solver of the group, the mind that prided itself on considering all the angles and possibilities. And yet, I was still unable to solve the puzzle that lay before me – what had happened to Superman?

Huddled in the shadows, I pondered these and other thoughts for some time. Crouching low, I allowed my brain to simply take over, to do what it did best and focus, free of distractions and minor irritations. I tuned out the sounds of the night, the quietly weeping crowd, and the sounds of feet lining the street, knowing that in time, the answer would come.

But it didn't.

I peered surreptitiously over the edge of the roof and realized that Metropolis was again empty, at least for the time being. Leaving the bat-jet where it lay for the moment, I made my way down the dimly lit streets that the processional had followed just an hour or so ago. The streetlamps were muted now, soft light falling on the curbs, tiny beacons of hope that lit the path to the site where Superman's "body" was laid to rest so short a time ago.

Although cynicism was usually my bread and butter, I couldn't help but be moved by the scene in front of me – the giant 'S' symbol that dominated the landscape in tribute to a city's fallen hero and everyone's favorite good guy. While I had never been covetous of Superman's idol position – the fawning crowds, the adoring and doting fans, particularly the swooning ladies – I had always had a kernel of envy for his life outside the hero costume, the Midwestern farm boy loved by his adopted parents, the ease of his childhood days in comparison with the dark years of mine.

Pausing beneath the structure towering over me, I pulled a piece of machinery out of my belt, checking to see if certain elemental levels were higher near this site, even in the city itself, but to no avail: again, I met with failure in my quest to determine the current location of Superman.

"Another dead end," I whispered, attempting desperately to hold on my rapidly shattering belief that I could discover my friend alive and well.

"I'm beginning to believe I might be wrong."

For me to utter that statement meant that I was well on the way to losing the last remnants of hope in my theory, meant that I was at a crossroads, a point where I either had to discover some concrete proof or admit that this had been a last desperate measure to protect myself from grieving for yet another loss in my life, a loss that it had not occurred to me to defend against. That realization left me somewhat shaken and I suddenly felt adrift in a desolate world, needing to talk to someone and staring upwards, I found the words pouring out.

"I've got some things to say. Should have said them when you were here but…" I trailed off, staring down at the pavement beneath my feet, suddenly wishing that we had had more time; that I had managed to say these words to his face rather than his memorial site. Somehow, a little piece of me knew that I would never have been able to address him in this manner, to say these words to him and reveal my inner thoughts and emotions to that boy scout visage, to the man who knew my secrets and had always treated me as an equal.

"Despite our differences, I have nothing but respect for you," I told the 'S' above me, but in my mind, I was speaking directly to Superman, to the good friend that I had lost before ever revealing to him how important our friendship had been to me.

"I hope you knew…" I looked down, ashamed of myself for doubting the very existence that I was striving to prove. Swallowing the lump clotting my throat, I continued, "…know that. You showed me that justice doesn't always have to come from the darkness."

That lesson had proved invaluable time and again, that blending of the elements of Superman and Batman, the balance between light and dark proven to surprise enemies and ultimately hand us victory against our foes. Despite the multitude of differences between us – our skills, our approaches, our inherent personalities, we had combined our forces of brain and brawn time and again in a formula that had given the team leadership and stability and a solid foundation of friendship and respect. I would never have admitted to this, even to myself, under typical circumstances, but this situation was anything but typical, anything but ordinary.

A feeling of isolation sank over me, a wave of fear that I had failed to properly respect and appreciate the friendship we had created so many years ago, that I would be unable to put the lessons and morals that he employed into proper practice without him beside me, stalwart and dedicated to the mission he had chosen to follow with his life. The vision of a blue-eyed, raven haired Princess flashed into my consciousness and my heart filled with emotions. Breath running ragged, I picked up the pieces of my thoughts and, a warmth pervading my body as I stood, alone and filled with regrets, and with that portrait in my mind, I finally demanded that I say what needed to be said, to say goodbye to the man who had unknowingly become my best friend so that I could move on with my life, with my love.

"I'll miss…"

But before I could even finish the sentence a booming noise sounded in the distance and, turning back to stare at the city line behind me, I observed a cloud of sooty smoke rising towards the sky, presumably the site of the explosion I had just heard. Irritated beyond all reason at being interrupted at this quintessentially poignant and private moment, a step that I needed to take so that I could wear the cape and cowl with pride and greater determination, I spun around to again speak to my departed friend.

"What did you always call it, Clark? The never-ending battle?"

With those words, I raced to the Bat-jet, winging my way into the sky and observing the scene below me with a sinking heart. It was as if the entire coalition of Metropolis criminals had staged a jailbreak, including a few that we had so recently locked away. The fire coursing through the city was doubtless thanks to the work of Volcana. I could see a pink sphere soaring across the sky, the evil counterpart of the Green Lantern, Star Sapphire. Other villains dotted the streets of the city, wreaking havoc and generally destroying the city in their jubilation over the death of the Superman and their presumption that the Justice League would disband with his demise. If anything, I knew that the League would grow stronger, banding together to ensure that this type of situation never occurred again, that they didn't lose anyone else to shameless and heartless violence.

Spying a small company of policemen firing harmlessly at Kalibak, Livewire, and Volcana, I took action, launching a missile at the son of Darkseid, catching him unaware and unprepared for my strike. Realizing that he would recover quickly, no matter the firepower I aimed at him, I continued my flight through the sky, cruising over the Metropolis skyline until a massive current of electricity hit my jet thanks to the powers of Livewire.

The red eject button glowed in front of me and I didn't hesitate to press it, blasting into the sky as smoke poured out of the jet as it headed down on a collision course with the pavement of Metropolis. My cape, thanks to a quick tug of the hidden ripcord, opened wide, interspersed with umbrella-like spokes that aided my descent to the ground.

As I slowly fell to the ground, a shop on the street below me emptied of two criminals, Deadshot and Copperhead, each hoisting their stolen merchandise – jewels, gold, and gems of all kinds – in their hands or in pushcarts filled with their ill-gotten goods. Slightly maneuvering my downward course so that I could impede their progress, I took Deadshot completely by surprise, kicking him in the face and propelling him backwards until he lay prone on the cement sidewalk.

Landing softly, I allowed my cape to return to its normal, billowy state and turned, barely missing the lunging Copperhead. Giving chase, I raced after him, but the wily criminal grasped a streetlamp and swung himself around it, causing me to groan as he landed hard against my abdomen. I flew backwards, crashing into the brick wall of the storefront and collapsing to my knees, hard-pressed to catch a breath. Pushing myself to my feet, I furtively seized the bat-bola from my belt and, turning slowly, I caught the orange snake-man in mid-air, the bola twining around him and strapping him to the pole he had used against me so recently.

As he slumped to the ground, consciousness fading, I pulled a set of handcuffs out of my belt and advanced on Copperhead. But before I could get more than a step, in a rare move, paying little attention to my surroundings, electricity began coursing through my body from the hands of Livewire, the shock and agony forcing me to close my eyes, to succumb to the blackness lurking behind my eyelids.

_Next chapter: Never Surrender – the League members, with the help of Lobo, take on the villains running amuck in Metropolis…_

_Only 2 chapters left after this! Anyone have any ideas for the next episode I'm doing – Comfort and Joy? I wish I could do Wild Cards, it's my favorite episode, but unfortunately, it just doesn't work. But I will talk about it in the Comfort and Joy story!_

_Remember, you can always add this story to your favorites list… Subtle, huh?_

_Also: possible titles for the "Comfort and Joy" episode include: _

_Christmas Break _

_Asking for It _

_Nice & Cozy _

_Grow Into It _

_To Celebrate _

_One More Thing _

_Any preferences or other suggestions (they're all parts of quotes from the episode)??? Review and let me know! I accept anonymous reviews as well-_


	11. Never Surrender

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. Batman is unconscious, but the rest of the Justice League arrive in order to stem the wave of violence and crime spawning over Metropolis. With them is Lobo – can they all save the day once again?_

**Chapter 11, Never Surrender, by Corey Hart**

Ah, the 80's and all those Corey's…

"Cause no one can take away your right to fight and to never surrender"

_Diana's perspective-_

With John piloting the javelin, we soon touched down on the outskirts of Metropolis, hoping to surprise the criminals with our appearance when they quite obviously expected us to disband and simply give up, to forfeit the Justice League and all that it stood for simply because one of our members was no longer with us.

We knew better. We simply weren't the type of people that could or would sit back and let the world become riddled with chaos and crime – that was why we had each chosen to use our abilities and powers for good, to be the upside of the balance in this world we found ourselves living in.

And, at the moment, Metropolis needed us and we weren't about to idly sit by and watch it be destroyed in the wake of Superman's death. The city stood for something now, something more than just the citizens housed within its walls – it stood for Superman, for the morals and values that he had signified. This was the city where we had laid him to rest, where we had said goodbye to one of our time's greatest heroes, and this is where we would make our stand – to let the world know that the Justice League was still active, still involved in helping to stem the corruption of our societies.

I took to the air, soaring amidst the smoke billowing through the sky, looking down at the streets littered with glass and debris, the blazing glow of fires lightening the darkened roads and sidewalks. Cars were scattered here and there, tossed like piles of garbage in the abandoned city, and as I began to descend from the skyline of the city, I could hear the distinct sound of glass shattering, of ear splitting alarms, and the crackle and spit of the fires as they roared.

Spying a small band of villains pillaging the stores of Metropolis, I silently flew downwards, coming to a stop on my feet just behind the crouched position of Deadshot. This particular foe had the skills of extraordinary marksmanship, but unfortunately for him, he did not have eyes in the back of his head as well. His hands were scurrying along the sidewalk he was kneeling on, trying intently to gather up the cash that fallen out of a lockbox, and without pausing in his endeavor, he stated, "Get your own money. There's plenty…"

Placing my hands on my hips, I stood, waiting somewhat patiently for him to turn around and realize exactly who was talking to. And when he trailed off, finally looking over his shoulders to see my star-spangled panties and silver bracelets right in his line of view, he immediately drew out of his crouching position to face me, coming up on the balls of his toes as he prepared to aim his wrist-mounted magnums.

He managed to get two shots off, both of which I blocked easily with my bracelets, before I stepped forward, landing a hard punch to his mid-section, and he groaned, falling to the ground in anguish. I stood over him for a moment, trying to determine whether or not he was going to stay down on the ground, when I felt an intense heat radiate across my back. Turning, I saw that Volcana had launched a fiery attack, aiming at my back, but Flash had used his speed to move the flow of the air and therefore, the flow of the fire. I was grateful for his interference, glad that the fire had been diverted before actually reaching my skin, and I watched as Flash sent the fire swooping around through the air back at Volcana.

Unfortunately, the criminal appeared immune to her own powers of pyrokinesis and I could hear Flash murmuring to himself, "Guess that was a little too much to hope for," before he took off again, steadily speeding away from the line of fire directed at him.

Meanwhile, Star Sapphire was channeling her psionic powers through her star sapphire gem, aiming the beam at a row of windows along one of the high-rise buildings lining the Metropolis cityscape. Below her, flames dancing and sparked as Volcana continued to give chase to Flash. Suddenly, Star Sapphire was enclosed in a green sphere of energy, for a short time blocking her powers, but she soon escaped from its confines, sending out multiple beams of pink light in spurts from her gem encrusted forehead to lance through the green circle surrounding her. And then, she and John began to aim energy beams at one another, pink and green battling for supremacy on the streets of Metropolis.

Copperhead was smoothly slithering along the sides of buildings in Metropolis, giving chase to some of the terrified citizens, when he encountered the business end of Hawkgirl's mace, the blow sending him reeling, unconscious, to the ground. Seconds later, a jolt of flowing electricity hit Hawkgirl; her screams intense and agonized, she fell to the ground, losing her grip on her mace as she fought against the current running through her body.

J'onn crept up behind the villainous Livewire, hoping to surprise and finish her before she could do any additional damage, but she turned rapidly, sending her levels of deadly wattage into J'onn's body from close range. He yelled out and I could see the smoke hissing from his body as he crumpled, body still shaking and an agonized look on his face.

Meanwhile, Flash was still battling with Volcana, racing around to avoid her fiery strikes, but in horror, I watched as he tripped, a pothole in the street catching him by surprise and causing him to fall to the ground. Unconcerned, the villainous turned back to destroyed the city, more intent on wreaking havoc than on the current condition of Flash.

Finally, Lobo emerged from the flames, heaving a car at Kalibak and crushing him under the weight of the automobile, dust and debris filling the air with the smell of burnt rubber and a series of other unpleasant odors. "Wuss," the bounty hunter muttered, believing that he had finished off Kalibak with a single blow. Before he had managed to walk more than ten feet, a groan could be heard from the fiery pile around Kalibak and the criminal emerged, a car propped on top of his massive fists.

"I'm going to grind you into paste!" he roared and Lobo looked at him with his typical arrogant expression, quietly murmuring, "Awful brave talk for a dead man."

"I'm not dead yet," Kalibak retorted, yellow teeth bared in anger as he stared at the man who dared to not show any trace of fear in his presence, at this man who dared believed that he could best the son of Darkseid.

"Right. My watch is about ten seconds fast," Lobo said, staring down at his wristwatch for a few moments before reaching behind him, grasping an automobile in each of his meaty hands, and swinging them at the approaching Kalibak, smashing him in the middle of the two cars with a resounding crash and a cloud of black smoke.

Hoping to give Flash some time to recover, I took to the skies, distracting Volcana from her chaotic bursts of flames that were damaging the city, allowing her to instead try and use me as target practice. Soaring in a circle around the villain, I watched as her flames leaped to catch up with my flight pattern, but suddenly, the fire was stalled, disappearing out of the sky.

Looking down, I saw Batman had turned the hose on Volcana, dousing her flames and reducing her powers to nonexistent.

I had not even realized that Batman was on the scene, that he had arrived, but I had a feeling there was more to that tale than I currently was able to grasp. Descending from the skies, I landed next to him, surreptitiously checking to make sure that he was hale and whole. I could feel his eyes on me and I looked at him, giving him a small smile to say thank you and to let him know that I too was unharmed from this battle. I could see that his movements were a little slow, possibly hindered by some pain, but overall, he looked to be in good condition, as did the remaining members of the League.

I took flight once again, determined to finish this business in Metropolis so that we could get on with deciding exactly what the future of the League would entail. Coming up on Star Sapphire from behind, I clocked her in the head with my fist, letting her plummet to the ground before we secured her for the police.

I noticed from my position in the sky that Flash had taken care of Livewire by introducing her to a container filled with water, a brilliant solution to stopping the electric criminal.

In the distance, we could see the wafting smoke and the metallic clang of cars being piled on one another was clearly audible. We all raced over, not knowing whether it was Kalibak in need of being stopped or whether Lobo had beat out the son of Darkseid. Rounding the corner, I could hear Lobo's deep voice rumbling above the scratches and squeaks of the cars, demanding that Kalibak "say it."

As we neared, we could hear a defeated voice, the voice of Kalibak, emanating from under the enormous pile of cars, "Uncle."

Lobo walked back to the side of the street, hefting the weight of another car in his hands and declaring in a sing-song voice, "I can't hear you!"

Before he could throw the car on top of the ever-growing heap, Hawkgirl landed between Lobo and his prey, mace extended as she said calmly and with a distinct emphasis on each word, "He's beaten. Put the car down."

Without even looking or exerting much effort, he threw the car backwards and I watched as it landed half-in, half-out of a nearby building with a resounding crash and a fiery blaze.

"I was gonna," he said, somewhat petulantly and raising his hands in that gesture of innocence, as if saying, 'who me?'

"Pretty good, huh? When you got Lobo on your team, who needs Superman?" He smiled in triumph as he stated the last and a wave of grief and sorrow raced through my brain, miring me in a wish and a dream that these past few days had never been, that we hadn't had to lose Superman in order to bond as a team, that it hadn't taken the grief and loss to finally allow Bruce and I to come together.

Lowering my head, I allowed myself a minute to grieve and I could see the other members doing the same. Closing my eyes, I willed the tears from my eyes and thought of a lost friend.

_Next and last chapter (I think): Better Now – an old friend returns…_

_Remember to review – I love hearing your thoughts and I appreciate it! So take a second and hit that little button and let me know what you think. Truthfully, I'm really disappointed by the amount that I've received so far. For the number of people reading this, it'd be really great if a few more of you would stop and let me know what you're thinking. You have no idea how much I like hearing what you're thinking and the lack of response makes a girl just want to give up on it. So, thank you Lavender Gaia, Vigilante15, and alinaandalion for reviewing the last chapter already!_

_Also: possible titles for the "Comfort and Joy" episode include:_

_Christmas Break_

_Asking for It_

_Nice & Cozy_

_Grow Into It_

_To Celebrate_

_One More Thing_

_Any preferences or other suggestions (they're all parts of quotes from the episode)???_


	12. Better Now

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League or the episode Hereafter._

_The episode Hereafter deals with the Revenge Squad, a group consisting of Metallo, Livewire, Kalibak, Toy Man and the Weather Wizard, all intent on exacting their revenge against Superman for past defeats they've suffered at his hands. Who's the mysterious figure who saves the life of one of the League members?_

**Chapter 12, Better Now, by Collective Soul**

"Let the word out  
I've got to get out  
Whoa, I'm feeling better now  
Break the news out  
I've got to get out  
Whoa, I'm feeling better now"

_Bruce's perspective-_

I bowed my head in silence at Lobo's words, sadness teasing my senses as I realized that we did need Superman, that _I_ needed Superman to be a part of my life. The balance of light and dark within the group was thrown off now, the emphasis towards heavy and dark rather than a meeting of the minds and of opinions as it usually was. No one else on the team had the innate goodness of Superman, the strong moral fiber that kept us upright, and the strength to keep said fiber an important part of the team. Flash was probably the closest in the honest, positive mindset department to Superman, but he simply didn't have the standing and innate strength to keep the group afloat in integrity, in believing in ourselves as a group regardless of the outcome.

We needed Superman.

Without a moral compass, we would be left floundering, each of us returning to our respective cities or, in the cases of some, like Diana, left adrift without the group and without a home to return to. An inkling in my brain alerted me to the fact that having Diana work beside me in Gotham was not as difficult to consider as it once was, the prospective becoming much more likely as time and our relationship continued on, strengthening and blossoming. If she truly wanted to understand Batman, she had to also understand Gotham City – its quirks and villains, its dark underbelly and citizens who continued to hope for a better city, better surroundings for their families and loves.

But right now was not the time to consider allowing Diana to function in Gotham as a super hero; it was a moment to reflect, to consider whether or not I truly believed my friend to be gone. I had worked tirelessly in order to discover him alive and well, and yet, there had been no conclusive results to support my statement thus far.

Head bent in sadness, I considered the fact that perhaps Superman was gone, that I would indeed have to make my goodbyes to my friend and give up the fledging hope that still lit my soul, a light on the turbulent, stormy seas of my feelings. And yet, a part of me refused to douse that light, to truly believe that the man I knew as both Clark and Superman would no longer be a part of my life. His obstinate beliefs, his silly smile, even that stupid 'S' – I would miss all of them if he never returned to our ranks again.

But my own obstinate nature had risen to the forefront of my brain, disavowing any idea that Superman was dead and instead clinging to the thought that there was still time, that I could still manage to find him, hale and hearty and alive.

As a group, we had formed a small semi-circle around Lobo, saddened by his words, but also angered that he believed, in his arrogance, that he was a superior replacement for Superman. I knew enough of the exploits of Lobo to know that he was not Justice League material; that he was little more than low-life scum, morally lost and physically endowed. These traits would not suffice to be offered membership into the League – they were the very things we so often fought against and Lobo would not fit into the League in any way, shape, or form.

Lost in my own thoughts, I failed to comprehend my surroundings, to realize that everyone was not accounted for in this little calamity playing out in Metropolis. From a nearby rooftop, a solitary figure took aim, his sights squarely on my face as he prepared to unleash his rifles, to use his advanced marksman skills in order to strike me down where I stood. Although no one was listening and none of us could hear the voice of Deadshot, he spoke softly in a flat, emotionless tone, "Bang. You're dead."

And then he fired.

I never noticed the projectile being launched at me, uncharacteristically lost in my musings, until it blew up, impacting with something that had reached out in from the smoke and fire and saved my life. Reacting immediately, I launched a batarang up at Deadshot, catching him in one of his wrist-rifles. It instantaneously short-circuited, causing a backlash of pain and energy to lance through the marksman's body and he fell backwards with a grunt, disappearing from sight.

I stared at the sight for a moment before realizing that someone had stopped that projectile from its intended target: me. And at that moment, I had no idea who my savior was.

Turning, I saw little but smoke and dust, but then a face appeared as the clouds dissipated.

Superman.

Albeit, a Superman with a full-growth of beard and a costume that looked to have seen many better days, including a fur pelt lining the width of his shoulders and a broad stick at his back.

Relief coursed through me – the search was over, the lost had been found and I didn't have to find the courage to say goodbye to someone else. I could see the others mirroring my feelings of disbelief and a happy shock, but their expressions were filled with joy, with a growing awareness that the sadness was fading, that our team was again seven.

I simply stared, making sure that my facial muscles were taught, that I showed no hint of the thankfulness that raced through my body, threatening to cause my knees to tremble and my lips to curve.

The first to step forward was Diana, her face infused with a joy that was rare to her – she had rarely had to face death before and to find a friend pulled back from the brink of nonexistence was always a happy occasion. And Diana was seldom lax about allowing her true feelings to surface, about showing the positive and negative aspects of her emotions. She was the first to anger, to step into the breech and bring that rancor into a fist; but, I thought with a wealth of emotion, she was also the first to care, to love, and to openly show her affections. And she had chosen to honor me with that affection, that wealth of emotion that she carried in that power-packed body. And suddenly, I couldn't find the words to speak – I was the luckiest of men, to have a friend like Superman and a lover like Diana. Luckily, everyone else had no problems filling the silence, simply mistaking my stillness for the usual Batman penchant for quiet reflection and intimidation.

I stood in the back of the group that had now cluttered around Superman, hovering, asking questions, and trying to fully comprehend that the Man of Steel was now back in our midst, alive and well.

"I'm fine," he told us, "very glad to be home."

Flash turned his face back towards me, trying to nonchalantly wipe at the welling of tears in his eyes.

"Flash?" Superman asked, voice filled with concern.

"Something in my eyes," he answered with a quaver to his tone.

"Yeah, tears!" exclaimed Green Lantern, laying a hand on Flash's shoulder in a gesture of comfort and connection. "It's okay, man, we all feel the same way."

From the darkness, I watched the tableau play out in front of me, the collective lifting of spirits as the hero we had so recently honored was returned to us. Flash's lips were wobbling, Green Lantern looked infused with a lightness I had rarely seen in the militaristic bearing, Hawkgirl look questioning, J'onn, stoic but somehow beaming, and Diana simply radiated her pleasure at the return of Superman. Lobo, like me, stood quietly on the fringes of the happy reunion, taking the scene in.

"Superman," Hawkgirl asked softly, touching the pelt across his shoulders, "How can you be…?"

"Alive? Toyman sent me to the future. And Vandal Savage and I fought some giant cockroaches and…it's complicated," he finished, shrugging his shoulders and looking into the happy faces staring back at him.

Diana stepped forward, eyeing his chin hair askance. "I love the beard," she said affectionately. "Keeping it?"

"Not a chance."

So pleased was I to see Superman again, to know that I had believed correctly that he had not died, I barely felt a tinge of jealousy at Diana's eager welcome to the man many believed she cared so deeply for. I, however, knew better, especially with our actions of late.

All I could think of was that this moment was necessary, was right, that the seven of us were together again, heroes coming together to save the world and defend the weak. This wasn't a moment for petty rivalries and the bitterness of jealousy, but for remembering, to realizing that I had been right to assume his existence, no matter the time period that he had landed himself in.

From behind Superman, J'onn stepped forward, placing a hand on Superman's shoulder and telling him, "You were greatly missed, my friend. By all of us."

Collectively, they turned to look at me. I crossed my arms over my chest and tried my damndest to look stern and forbidding, utterly emotionless in the face of Superman's return. Body erect in every line, I stared back at them all, particularly Superman, a hint of disbelief in his expression obviously thinking about me missing him in any way. I had a feeling though, that behind his disbelief, he knew that he had indeed been missed, by all of us.

"Don't let him fool you," Diana told him with a teasing look in my direction. "Your death hit him as hard as it hit any of us."

"Really?" Superman questioned in an incredulous tone.

"No," I told him baldly. "I never believed you were dead in the first place."

Diana simply looked at me, knowing the more accurate truth than what I had painted, but choose to keep quiet, to let the moment pass and revel in the togetherness of the seven once again.

"I guess that's sort of a compliment," acknowledged Superman, his expression stating that he didn't know quite how to process my declaration.

And then Lobo moved forward, putting a giant arm around both Superman and Diana's shoulders, and pulling them close to his greasy body. "Isn't this great? The whole team together again, all eight of us."

Before any one else could step up to the plate and combat his statement, Superman glared at the bounty hunter. "Count again." He swiped Lobo's hand from his shoulder and said, "You're fired."

"_What_?" Lobo bellowed, beady red eyes glaring at the man who had just rejected his entreaty to join the Justice League.

"You're not Justice League material, Lobo. Go chase a bail-jumper. I don't care what you do, just clear out." Superman stood steady in the face of the anger staring back at him, returning the intent look with one of his own, clearly not allowing Lobo to gain the upper hand.

"This is the thanks I get? What a stinking rip!" He jumped up into the air, landing on the motorcycle that suddenly appeared under him, descending from the skies. "Next time you lollipops need help, don't bother asking the Main Man!" And with that, he revved his engines and raced off into the skyline of Metropolis, out of our sights and out of our lives.

"We didn't ask you this time!" J'onn yelled after him, clearly irritated the by arrogance of Lobo and the power that he had tried to assume with the 'death' of Superman.

"Guess you'll want to get cleaned up and find a new set of clothes?" Green Lantern asked Superman.

"Not yet," he stated boldly, "we've got a job to do. C'mon, I'll explain on the way." And with those words, he lifted himself up into the air, the rest of us following his lead as we had done so often before, relieved to have him back in our midst.

We were seven.

_Next story: Nice & Cozy - what were Batman and Diana up to during this episode? Let's find out..._

_Also, should I add another chapter? I'm undecided. Chapter 13, anyone? All Bats and Wondy._

_Remember to review – I love hearing your thoughts and I appreciate it! So take a second and hit that little button and let me know what you think. Right now, I'm at 67 reviews - the most I have is 76 - can you beat it???_

_If you loved it, favorite it! I'd certainly appreciate it! Thank you to all of you who have added me to your favorite list, your author alerts, and your story alerts as well. It's nice to know that so many of you are enjoying what I'm writing - and nothing could make me happier. Well, maybe reviews. Hehe._


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